Tyhil Drabbles
by Goldmineempire5
Summary: The best thing happened to me was you
1. Chapter 1

_"The best thing that happened to me was to meet you."_

 _ **. . . . . .**_

 _ **. . . .**_

 _. ._

Tyson Granger checked his watch before pushing the door in front of him. There was a smile on his face when he found out he had arrived earlier.

 _Ting-a-ling_

A pleasant aroma from coffee, chocolate, and buttery croissants greeted him friendly as he walked into the coffee shop. Although fairly small, it has a warm and cozy atmosphere with cushions, string lights, gramophone, and wooden furniture as the main decoration.

As he looked around for a place to sit, a lively voice from behind the counter interrupted him.

"Hi there. What can I get for you?"

Tyson automatically twisted his body and read the menu list on the wall.

The owner of the voice, a young girl with glasses, slipped a little gasp from her mouth when she realized there's a good-looking guy with messy blue-colored hair before her. Her smile widened as she watched the guy closely. She thought that he has a manly yet cute expression while observing the menu and with a quick glance, she can guess behind that dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, hidden a toned and muscular body.

 _Nice!_

"I heard that you guys have the best cappuccino in town. I would like to try that!" He finally decided his choice while giving her a polite smile. "Give me two butter croissants too, please."

After completing his order, Tyson went to the right. Little did he know, from behind the counter, that girl kept staring at his strong back and trailing his steps toward the window without realizing that her behavior was caught by her co-worker who was near the kitchen. He then sighed meaningfully and resumed his work.

The young man chose to sit by the window, his favorite spot. A place he always fought over with his brother when they were kids but when their little sister came along years later, he happily gave the spot to her regardless of the protests of his older brother. He smiled at that thought.

Occasionally looking outward, Tyson checked his cell phone. A gentle rhythm was slowly flowing from the sound system and he absentmindedly hummed, feeling content.

XXX

After passing the florist, Hilary hurriedly turned a corner and pushed the door of the coffee shop. She took a breath and exchanged greetings with the girl at the counter.

"Today's special?" offered the girl as she opened the display case where neatly lined muffins, cookies, pretzels, and croissants.

She just nodded and swept her gaze quickly.

There weren't so many people there so she easily found the person she wanted to meet today. A dark-haired guy who sat right by the window with his back to her. With a soft pat on his shoulder, the brunette beauty tried to attract the young man's attention.

"Oh hey, Hilary." His voice was deep and calm, casual.

The said girl threw herself on the couch next to him. In a swift manner, she tore and took a bite some butter croissant on the plate.

"You're late."

"No, you're the one coming too early!"

"I am no longer the late lateef, Hil!" Tyson chuckled lightly. "Anyway, I can see why you like this place. The ambience is so peaceful and calm. Oh, and you're right! This place has the best cappuccino in town," he stated and took another sip.

She grinned cheerfully and tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder, "You know I'm never wrong."

"Once, at the road trip back in high school."

"Eugh! Not that again!"

Hilary rolled her eyes while Tyson sniggered.

Their chatter stalled when a feminine voice called her name. "Miss Hilary, sorry to have kept you waiting. This is your order."

The corner of her mouth turned up, "This looks delicious, thank you." She replied and grabbed the mug in front of her, letting the heat from the mug warm her hands. "So, tell me, Tyson. You didn't just asked me out for tasting the best cappuccino, right?"

"Hilary Tachibana, always the sharp one," teasingly, Tyson responded. "I need you to help me with something."

She looked up at him, signaling that she was listening fully.

"I have an offer for you to fulfill the promise you made to me at the Halloween party."

Her slim brow furrowed trying to remember the promise she had made.

"You must have forgotten, right?"

Weakly, she nodded.

"You were heavily drunk and asked me to take you home that night," Tyson continued calmly. From the corner of his eye, he caught her blinked aware.

Her vague memory came back.

 _Hilary staggered toward Tyson who was talking seriously with someone. She couldn't recognize him, everything looked blurry. She tried to put her hand on his shoulder but missed and descended to his bare chest._

 _"Graaangger… hicc… I… I order you t-to… hicc… me home…" She slurred._

 _A smile spread across her face as she noticed the change in his expression. His worried voice sounded enthralling in her ears._

Her beautiful face began to blush.

 _When they almost arrived, she hugged him closer and whispered, "In return, you can ask me to do anything… for you. I promise…" then she linked their little finger carelessly._

He made a faint smirk as he casually touched her little finger and she jolted.

"Okay…"

"Hm…"

"Just spill it! What do you want me to do?" she continued before nibbling the pretzel.

"Well… Kenny's birthday is coming up and I was thinking of throwing him a party. It will have some girly vibes so I need your favor." Tyson paused and added hastily, "I don't mean to be sexist. I think you understand more about this than me."

Her brown eyes gazed upon on him. Pondered.

The young blunette let the silence take over as he watched her expectantly.

"So you want me to help you?" Hilary confirmed, amused. She had known for a long time that he loved his friends dearly. For some reason, she really wanted to tease him today.

"Yes. It's for Kenny." He replied curtly.

"D'aaaawww… you're such a nice friend! Kenny is so lucky to have a friend like you! I wish I had a friend just like you" _Get the hint, get the hint._ She bounced on the couch and playfully poking his upper arm. Tyson brushed his dark blue bangs with his fingers and tilted his head, "Friend like me? I am your friend Hilary" There's a slight glint in his eyes as he smiled and it made her heart pound.

She averted her eyes and mumbled something like 'shut up'.

"Why? I'm just responding to your words," he replied nonchalantly. A beeping sound from his cell phone caught his attention. He checked it for a moment before putting it back on the table.

Trying to change the subject, she asked him several questions, "Any ideas for the venue? How many guests? What kind of theme that you want for the party?" her notebook's already on her lap with a pen tucked in her fingers.

"Just a small party with a few guests, like family and her close friends," he answered before reaching for his cell phone. "About the theme… what do you think about this?"

Hilary shifted closer to his side and looked at the pictures from that device with him. Some pictures showed beautifully decorated gardens and others were party rooms with pastel colors. Slowly but surely a smile widened on her face. "Wow! This is amazing, Tyson! How can you…" she exclaimed excitedly, couldn't hide her amazement.

A flush crept up his clean-shaven face.

Tyson cleared his throat, "Hm… just a little observation, that's all!" he was trying to hide his embarrassment.

 _How cute!_

She smiled at that thought as she wrote something in her notebook.

"… but I don't know where to start?"

"How about this place? They just started their business this spring and they received a lot of good reviews." Hilary showed him a place filled with cute and vintage decorations.

"Looks nice, let's go then!"

He immediately got up from his seat and walked away, signaling for Hilary to follow him.

"Hey, wait! You forgot your jacket!"


	2. Chapter 2: How they Met!

**This one is completely out of Beyblade Universe. It's how Tyson and Hilary made a date out of the evening first they met. Enjoy!**

* * *

She looked around her, scrutinizing the surroundings, letting her eyes wander on the walls, the chandeliers, the dark-red faux velvet chairs next to the bar section of the restaurant – she looked anywhere but at the man sitting across from her, ungracefully shoving his spaghetti into his mouth all the while twaddling.

The reason why Hilary hated going on dates just came rushing back to her but it was too late to back down now; she had said yes – God knows why – and showed up to this restaurant where her date told her to come. Mainly because she had never been on one. Yes, this was her first date. After three glasses of water, a couple bread sticks and a glass of whiskey, the waitress started to feel sorry for Hilary, who spotted the older woman whispering something to her co-worker while giving Hilary a sympathetic glance. That's it, she was going to leave! But of course that was when he finally decided to show up, apologizing profusely and explaining that he came with the metro and he missed the station and had to walk two blocks before arriving here. Great, so now she knew that he wasn't going to drive her back home either.

His name was Robert - "call me Bob," he said, but Hilary would sooner die than do that and consequently encourage any kind of intimacy. It was already difficult enough for her to process that she agreed to go on a date with a guy named Robert. It was an old person name. Speaking of- he was probably about ten years older than Hilary – how would _she_ know? - his hair was greyish in some places, his forehead had a bewinening of wrinkle and he had a receding hairline – if it hadn't been for his job, he would look more than ten years older than her. He seemed like the annoyingly flirty type of man whose smiles weren't to be trusted. He was a gym teacher in the school Hilary worked for a couple days a week – as a teacher – and he had been all over her since day one. Although he seemed pretty insistent, Hilary had seen him hit on other women so she didn't think that he was really interested in her, more like aroused by the whole 'nurse' thing.

So why did she say yes? That was a question to which she'd like to have the answer too. Well, she was bored, she figured that maybe she had misjudged him and would spend a nice evening. And if not, maybe he would finally give up on trying to get in her pants. To say that she was _bewinening_ to regret this decision was the understatement of the year. So far he talked about work, his mum, football and his ex. If he intended on seducing her, he needed to take a course on how to seduce women because that clearly wasn't going to work. It itched her to throw her drink at his face but it was good wine and she didn't think he was worth a glass of fine Chardonnay.

"I'll go out for a minute, want to come?" He asked, making Hilary blink a couple times and focus back on him.

He was giving her a questioning look and held a cigarette between his fingers. To dismiss himself like that without even asking her if she minded him smoking made her reconsider throwing her glass his way, but she figured that she couldn't exactly expect more given how this date started.

"I think I'll stay here, have another drink," Hilary said, quickly gulping down the last of her wine. He was so boring that she actually had the time to smell and taste the wine until she had figured out all the components.

He shrugged and stood up, not saying another word as he walked away from the table and out the front door. Suddenly Hilary's brain started functioning again and she could almost hear the gearing creak from lack of use these past two hours. They had reached dessert; the torture would end soon enough, right? Was it worth throwing some money on the table and escaping through the back door? Should she wait for him to come back and pretend she just received an urgent phone call and that she had to leave immediately? Should she suck it up and stay despite it all? Honestly, she would have run away if she wasn't going to see him again at work – but that would make their meetings too tense for her to bear.

Hilary decided to stay, but if she was going to endure this whole evening, there was no way she'd do it sober. She headed to the bar, sitting on one of the worn out leather stools and gesturing the barman to come over when he was finished serving the men at the far end of the counter.

"A refill of wine please," the brunette ordered, sighing deeply and rubbing her eyes, not really caring about her make-up.

Her eyes lazily drifted to the clock above her head. Ten twenty-three. She just wanted to go home and forget about this evening – she would drink herself silly if that was what it took. This date definitely made it on her list of decisions she regretted most.

"Excuse me," someone beside her began to talk, causing Hilary to snap out of her thoughts, "-are you all right? You look like you're having a rough night."

Glad that someone noticed her evident distress, Hilary barely registered that he was attractive and charming, and simply went to answer.

"The worst! I'm never going out again!" She scoffed in a humorous manner, glancing towards the door behind which she knew her _date_ was standing.

"I figured out that much," he chuckled. This time Hilary took notice of his laughter. It was polite and a little restrained but sincere, and rather pleasant to hear. "It wasn't my intention to watch, but I saw you glaring at your friend with your fingers on your temple a few times. If looks could kill he would be pinned to that wall," he joked.

Hilary cringed internally upon hearing the words 'your friend'. This man couldn't know, but Robert was the epitome of what she didn't ever want to have in a friend – of _any kind_.

"No matter how hard I concentrate it never works," Hilary laughed. "In my defense-," she started, placing her hand over her heart, "he _slurped_ while drinking his wine."

"Unacceptable," the stranger said. He tried to pull off an offended, severe face but the small crinkles at the corner of his eyes and the way the corners of his mouth twitched upwards betrayed him.

Hilary had absolutely no idea who this man was but she welcomed her first enjoyable conversation of the day with a huge smile and shifted on her seat in order to face him.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you get yourself in this situation? Is it some kind of blind date?" He asked out of curiosity. He brought his glass of bourbon to his lips and chugged down the last of it. This gave Hilary a glimpse of his forearms and boy, oh boy, were they nice. She cleared her throat.

"No, not at all. He's actually a co-worker of mine. He's been harassing me for a date for months and I gave in last week but that sure wasn't a brilliant idea," Hilary explained quickly, fumbling with her glass of wine and trying not to stare at the man too much.

"Don't laugh at me but I considered coming to your rescue a couple times. I ended up deciding against it," he told her in a bit of a sheepish way, as though he was ashamed to admit it – like it didn't totally make the young woman melt on the inside.

"Why?" She frowned once she had recovered and stopped swooning internally.

A smile grew on his face at her question, and the crinkles were back at the corner of his eyes, as if he was relieved she didn't make fun of him and even seemed a little thwarted that he didn't come.

"Well I didn't know how you'd react to a stranger interrupting your date, regardless how disappointing," he said. Hilary had to admit it was a valid reason. Her desperation to ever get out of this date didn't help to make her think straight. "For all I knew you could have been having dinner with your husband."

Hilary's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"God _forbid_ ," she declared before taking a sip of her wine. It burned her throat but it felt good and warm. "And for the record, if you had interrupted us, I would have bought you a thank-you drink. Probably," she added with a smirk and a wink, meeting the man's steady gaze.

Hilary took a little time to really look at him. He was tall and fit – he had lean forearms _for_ _days_ – almost in an athletic kind of way, like exercising was what he made a living out of. His chin was covered in blue four-day stubble and his blue eyes were deep and playful. His smile reached his eyes too. The sudden urge to touch his face came over her when her eyes fell on his defined cheekbones, making her wonder if they were sharp enough to cut. This man was truly stunning, in this refined, gentleman-ish manner. His white dress shirt stretched over the most muscular parts of his arms – a sweet sight for sore eyes. It was layered with a navy vest that matched his dress pants and the suit jacket that hung over the back of his stool. He had loosened his tie and looked slightly dishevelled; his outfit was that of a well put together man but his eyes were tired if you looked closely and his attitude was relaxed and playful - which didn't quite displease Hilary. It's true what they say: suit kink is a thing.

"Probably?" He asked, his eyebrows shooting up in bedazzlement.

"Definitely," Hilary corrected herself, blushing furiously.

Was she drooling? How long has she been staring? The whiskey she had had while waiting for Robert, added to the wine she drank during the dinner and now the wine in her hand started to kick in, and Hilary couldn't tell how long she eyed him like that. She just hoped it didn't make him uncomfortable.

"Please do help me if he starts talking about his ex-again," she gave him permission to cut short to her agony.

"If that's what you want, I can do it," he said, almost eagerly. Hilary honestly couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "I mean, in all good faith."

"'Course," she agreed with a smile on her face and finished her drink.

Robert would be back in no time now.

"Should I be the jealous spurned lover or the possessive man who just caught his partner flirting with someone else?" He asked more seriously in a down to business voice.

"You're really going to do it?" Hilary asked in laughter, baffled at how this stranger whose name she didn't even catch was willing to help her out of this catastrophe of a date.

"Certainly. I simply cannot let a lady deal with such a boorish on her own any longer than I already did. Besides, his poor attempts at flirting are an insult to all single people out there," he shrugged as if it were an everyday thing for him to rescue damsels in distress like Hilary. But she didn't miss the fact that he casually dropped his current status of a single man. God bless.

"I give you free hand, you can do anything you want as long as it's really awkward and makes him take the French leave!" She grinned and shook hands with the man, sealing the deal.

Hilary's smile dropped when Robert came back into the room.

"Gotta go," she said, pouting slightly as she slid the money for the wine on the counter.

"Wait, what's your name?" The man asked.

"Hilary Tachibana," she answered with a timid smiled.

"Well Hilary, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Tyson. Tyson Granger," he introduced himself, shaking her hand before letting her make her way back to the table she shared with her date.

"Hey, sorry Hilary! I chatted a bit with another lad, hope you didn't miss me too much," he tried – and failed – to joke. She gave him a sarcastic smile and told him how unbearable the wait was.

"You know, I'm really glad you finally agreed to go on this date with me. I knew we'd click," he told her confidently. "It was only a matter of time, but I figured it was protocol for a woman to reject a man a few times before giving in," he kept on rambling, digging his own grave.

Hilary was thinking of different ways to kill him with his dishes. This lasted for another ten minutes before the man at the bar walked to their table.

"Hilary!" She heard Tyson's voice call from behind her in a shocked tone. She closed her eyes and silently thanked heavens for his intervention. "Honey, what are you doing here?" He asked, making his way to the table and standing there next to Hilary and Robert – who kept giving her questioning glances which she royally ignored.

"Tyson!" She exclaimed in an enthusiastic yet slightly uncomfortable tone. "I'm... having dinner," she said, refusing to qualify this as a date in front of Robert who still had no idea what was going on.

Tyson's expression suddenly changed when he finally laid eyes on the man, acknowledging his presence. Hilary had to hold back a snort when she saw Robert's face go white. To be honest even if Tyson was sitting too, he would still be intimidatingly tall and impressive, but standing tall and towering over Robert like he was made it a hundred times worse – or better, in this case.

"What is this, darling? Are you- are you on a _date_?" He asked in an outraged voice, crossing his arms over his chest to make his biceps more impressive – which was pointless in Hilary's humble opinion. "With _this_ guy?" He pointed his finger to Robert to increase the rudeness, and looked at her, awaiting an answer.

"I wouldn't call this a date Tyson, we're just two co-workers going out for dinner!" Hilary slowly got into character and tried to justify herself, raising her voice too. "What's the harm in that?"

"The _harm_ is that you cancelled our night out for this loser!" Tyson barked, his voice raising significantly.

"Hey!" The said loser protested but both Tyson and Hilary ignored him and glared at each other fiercely.

It was becoming really hard to uphold his gaze without breaking out laughter, but it was for a good cause.

"You're the one who's always so reluctant to commit! May I remind you that you broke off _our engagement_! I figured I might as well find myself a man who's not afraid of showing himself at my arm!"

She had no idea where this was going and simply shouted his way whatever came to mind. This was honestly the most fun she had had this week.

"I simply wasn't ready _yet_! And don't you try and make this about me, Hilary!" Tyson replied, looking genuinely angry. "This is on you! If you want to go out with him, fine! But at least tell me if it's over between us!"

"Why do you always have to be so _dramatic_?!" Hilary faked a sigh and threw her arms in the air.

"Uhhm... maybe- maybe I should leave you two alone to speak for a minute," Robert mumbled uncomfortably, ready to jump off his chair and run away.

"Oh no, stay Robert," Hilary gestured him to sit down; not gracing him with one single look as she kept her eyes dived into Tyson's. "He was about to leave," she articulated slowly.

"Out of the question, I'm staying," he said before taking a nearby chair and making room for himself between Robert and her.

"You can't do this, for God's sake! Have you been raised by _wolves_?" Hilary protested.

"I- I should really go-"

"Stop interrupting us, _Bob_!" Tyson turned around and shot him daggers with his eyes. "Where were we?"

"I was telling you how boorish and obnoxious you were," Hilary snapped at him, leaning back on her chair and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, isn't that your type of men?" Tyson asked pointing to Robert with his chin. Honestly that comeback earned him a high five she'd be sure to give him once Robert leaves.

Hilary faked a look of hurt and even made sure to quiver her lower lip.

"Did you come here only to say harmful things, Tyson?" She asked, her voice considerably lowering and making sure to display as much emotion as she could. Emotions made most men uncomfortable, hopefully it would also be the case of Robert.

"You know what? I didn't see how late it was, I should get going," he tried to escape once again, not earning any reaction from either of them.

Tyson reached out for Hilary's hand but since she had her arms crossed, he simply rested his hand on one of her forearms.

"You know that wasn't my intention," he said in a soothing tone. The tension was so thick between the three of them that Hilary could have cut the air with a butter knife. "I'm sorry I got upset when I saw you with him in _our_ restaurant," he said. Damn, he was good.

"I'm the one who set up the date here!" Robert felt the need to say, earning a stern glare from Tyson, whose warm hand was still on Hilary's arm. Why was it so hot in here? "I-I mean, this is a pure c-"

"A coincidence, ugh?" Tyson scoffed. "Listen man, if I were you, I'd be careful. This is _my girl_ you were hitting on," he practically growled at him.

Robert raised his hands in surrender.

"I didn't know, she didn't say-"

"Are you saying it's me who insisted on going out with you?" Hilary asked, making sure to sound offended and a bit dramatic in her body language.

"N-no, I-," he struggled to get the words out.

"What are you _still_ doing here?" Tyson asked, giving him a look that clearly meant 'get the fuck out of here', and Robert threw the money for the dinner on the table with shaky hands before running off, almost forgetting his jacket in the process.

Hilary waited for the door to close behind him before saying, "Took him long enough."

"Well, that was fun!" Tyson said, pulling his chair closer to the table and adopting a more relaxed demeanor. They both laughed it off and cheered at their victory.

"I can't wait to see the colors leave his face next time I see him in a hallway," she told him. "The sheer thought makes this whole evening worth it."

"I think I scared him," he laughed.

"Oh you did! He was sweating from fear two minutes into it," Hilary confirmed his statement. "I propose a toast!" She grabbed her glass of water and handed him Robert's unused one after filling it.

"To what shall we drink?" He asked.

"To the free spaghetti I had tonight and to you, the gentleman who saved me from my horrible date," she suggested. Tyson smiled and nodded, gently bumping his glass of water against hers and drinking it.

"How does dessert sound?" He asked, already gesturing the waitress to undress the table and bring the dessert card. "All this acting has me famished!"

"I never say no to dessert, as a principle," she gladly accepted.

He didn't switch chairs and stayed on the one next to Hilary instead of taking Robert's empty one who was across from her. She preferred it this way, it was much less formal and job-interview like. Tyson turned out being funny and intelligent – added to the fact that she couldn't keep her eyes off of him more than a minute or so. They spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing and whispering to each other in a playful tone. He was in New York for a prolonged vacation and took a liking to this rather kitsch restaurant. She told him about being a teacher and that she worked part time in a middle school, where she had the displeasure of seeing Bob every so often and was faced with his constant flirting. He frowned at that, and told her that if he ever bothered her, she could call him anytime and he's be her boyfriend of the night all over again.

That's how he gave Hilary his number. In all good faith.

"I still can't believe he fell for it!" She shook her head, blushing a bit. Now that it was all over, she felt a bit ashamed of her behavior. It was acceptable back in high school but coming from two adults, it was rather ridiculous. But what was even more so was the fact that it worked.

"You pulled it off pretty well," Tyson complimented her. "That lip quiver was perfect." He held back his sappy comment on how her lips looked perfect anyway and bit his own lower lip.

"Thanks," Hilary laughed it off. "But that was nothing compared to you! Where did _that_ come from? I didn't expect it at all!"

"I had an idea when I came up but then I saw you looking at me and saying my name and my mind went completely blank. I had to improvise," he admitted, earning a blush and a smile from the young woman.

"Have you ever been told that you're a very good actor?"

Tyson made a funny face and shrugged before mumbling, "'couple times, yes."

The evening came to an end and they both knew it. They had seen the restaurant and the bar slowly empty and now they were left alone with the barman, the waitress and a sleeping drunk sitting on a stool at the bar. Neither of them wanted to leave just yet.

"I still owe you a drink," Hilary said, as a false pretext to stay just a little longer in his company. "What can I get you?"

"Oh," he said, as if he had forgotten about it. He looked up to meet her eyes and without breaking eye-contact, he moved his hand towards her and suddenly, she felt his hand take hold of hers and squeeze it lightly. "I'm saving this one for our next date," Tyson chuckled, grinning at her.


	3. Chapter 3: Standing Up

Hilary let her curls flow over her shoulders before twirling around to face Tyson. "Do I look okay?" She raised an eyebrow and spread her arms.

Tyson paused buttoning his flannel sleeves to look at his wife. She was in a simple outfit, just a pair of shorts and a red baseball tee, but she looked stunning. "You look amazing, babe." He walked to her and pressed a quick kiss on her lips.

She smiled and picked up her perfume. "For the record, you look particularly handsome today." She sprayed her torso and wrists before putting on her shoes.

"And I don't look handsome on other days? Tyson replied as he tried to tame his hair, looking to her with a cocked eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course you do. But today, you just look amazing." She smiled over at him and leaned on the wall.

Tyson smiled back and joined her near the door. "Thanks hun." He took her hand and led her out the door.

The bar wasn't the… biggest, but it was a quaint little place with a thatched roof and a sign on the door that said "Welcome All! Please Wipe Your Muddy Shoes Before Entering!". Hilary and Tyson sweatdropped and made sure to follow the signs direction before opening the door and walking in.

It looked like any regular old bar. There were various tables scattered around, a couple pool tables, a jukebox, and the same bar stools that seemed to be everywhere. Hilary took Tyson's hand and led him to the bar, sitting near the edge close to the bathroom.

"What'll it be?" A gravely but warm voice asked from behind the bar. A man with a scraggly beard and a bald head asked.

Hilary raised her eyebrows and looked at Tyson. "Hi, can I have some… vodka shots?"

The man put the glass he was cleaning down and gathered up his shot glasses and the vodka. He poured her three before looking at Tyson. "And you?"

He tugged at his shirt collar before saying, "Just a beer, Corona please."

The man grunted and reached under the bar, pulling a bottle out by its neck and placing it on the bar in front of Tyson. "You two have a nice night." He opened Tyson's bottle before picking up his glass and tending to the next pair of customers.

Hilary downed one of her shots before smiling at Tyson. "He seemed nice."

"For sure." He took a drink before grimacing. "This beer is really strong." He smacked his lips softly and put it down.

Hilary took a swig and shrugged. "It's not bad. Wanna trade?" She gestured down to her shots.

"Sounds like a plan." He took one of the glasses and downed a shot. Way better than the bug spray beer.

After another shot and a halfway empty bottle, Hilary spoke up. "This is nice. We don't get out a lot."

Tyson looked at her with soft eyes. "Yeah, it's really nice. I love spending time with you."

Hilary slipped her hand into his, letting the chatter of the bar be the only nose for a bit. Soon, she said, "So, anything in particular you want to talk about?"

Tyson thought for a moment and shrugged. "I don't know. I just wanted to spend some time with you. It's been pretty hectic with World Championships around the corner."

Hilary's eyes widened slightly. "You really think so?"

"Kind of. I guess because I'm not as outgoing as you, and I'm not as good at social interaction, I just get burned out really quickly and need a break from everything, you know?" At this point he was ranting, but the vodka had loosened his tongue, so he didn't see an end.

She moved as close as she could to him. "Tyson, you don't have to justify yourself. You think what you think, and it's completely fine.''

He snickered and leaned on her shoulder. "I love you."

"Love you too, babe."

She picked up one of the shot glasses and downed another shot. "Are you going to drink the rest?"

Tyson sat up and shook his head as he adjusted his glasses. "No, my head's already foggy, and we have to walk home." He pushed the last shot towards her and slid off his chair. "I've gotta go to the bathroom, be right back." He smiled and made his way into the bathroom.

Hilary watched him disappear behind the door before grabbing the beer and turning in her chair to face the room. From what she could see, this town was fairly diverse. There were youngsters, office colleagues, women, and even Grannies scattered around. Each group was unique, too. At one table, there was an orcish band, strumming calmly on their guitar. She smiled and took another drink, happy she had the opportunity to be in a town such as this.

Soon, she realized that her beer was gone. She turned back to the bar only to be met by an unknown man sitting in Tyson's seat. She jumped slightly at his sudden appearance. "Hello?" She said as she put her empty bottle on the bar.

"Heya sweet thing. Need another one?" He gestured down at the bottle, his thin smile and crooked nose slightly alarming. Judging by his tone, he was had been for some poor girl to harass, and Hilary happened to be there.

Before she could answer, he called to the bartender and paid for another beer for the "lovely lady". Hilary wouldn't turn down the free beer, but she didn't want to deal with this guy flirting with her when she had come in with her husband not even ten minutes ago.

The bartender opened the bottle for her and gave the guy a wary look before helping other customers. "So what brings such a pretty girl like you to a sleezy place like this?" The hunk braced his chin on his hand.

Hilary eyed the vodka shot, wondering if he had slipped anything in it somehow. "Just in town." As discretely as she could, all she wanted him to leave right now.

"Well, I don't think you'd wanna come back to my place and-"

"What are you doing with my wife?" Tyson suddenly appeared, his arms crossed and his usually soft expression hard and glaring.

The man laughed softly. "This chick's your wife? Yeah, you two are married and I just won the lottery!" His laugh grew as picked up the shot glass. "Here, pal, take this and run along." He offered twenty bucks and waved him away.

Hilary took the shot from Tyson and held it out to the stranger. "Why don't you drink it? If you drink it, I might consider taking your number." She batted her hair behind her shoulder and leaned on the counter, curving her back.

He looked slightly taken aback. "I can't, miss, I can't handle my li-"

"Oh, and now you call me miss? Get out of here before me and my husband team up and kick your ass to next week." She stood up and grabbed Tyson's hand.

The hunk rolled his eyes. "Fine. At least I tried." He shrugged and slid off the seat.

"Yeah, he was hitting on me. Not so good with the flirting though." She mumbled to Tyson and picked up the vodka and splashed it in the stranger's face. There was only a shots worth of vodka in it, but it looked like he was drenched.

Now, the entire bar was looking at them. Even the soft music had quietened.

The man's face reeking of alcohol slowly wiped his face with a hand. "You're lucky you're not here alone." He turned and stalked off and out of the bar.

Hilary looked to Tyson wide eyes. Tyson pursed his lips and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Alright, everyone, nothing to see here. Go on about your business." He pulled some money out of his wallet and put it on the bar counter.

"What? No way! Take that back, sir." The bartender shook his head and pushed his money towards him.

Tyson furrowed his brows in confusion. "What?"

"You two just stood up to the worst person that's ever set foot in this bar. He's tried to drug just about every girl that comes in here." The bartender said, a smile on his face.

Hilary turned and looked around the bar again. She hadn't noticed it before, but there weren't any other females in the bar with them. "Good to know. We'll still be on our way." She smiled at the bartender before leaving with Tyson.

They walked in silence for a while before Tyson sighed and said, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

Hilary shook her head. "You were in the bathroom, it's okay. Also, I've dealt with this before."

"Seriously?" He shook his head with a somber expression.

"Yeah. It's alright, though, I've gotten quite a few free drinks from it. I can't argue with something like that." She smiled at him, trying to lighten to situation.

Tyson leaned into her and pressed a kiss on her cheek. "That's honorable. But, let's agree not to go to anymore bars in the future."

"Agreed."


	4. Chapter 4: Personal Space

Tyson often has nightmares. Most of the time he dreamed that he would lose Hilary. That she would leave him for some other boy. His biggest nightmare is that he would lose Hilary, because he had been at this point before. Hilary knew she wasn't innocent of his nightmares. She was the one who ran away when the pressure became too great to be perfect. But she was anything but perfect and she would always be. But what she now knew was that she just has to be herself. Tyson loves Hilary. He loves the girl from the heart. But through Tyson she learned how true love feels. And that feeling was so overwhelming. Hilary had sworn to herself that she would try every day to convince Tyson that she would never leave him again.

Hilary had woken up early in the morning, as usual. Tyson's sleep schedule varied, but last night he had another of his terrible nightmares and he had such a hard time trying to go back to sleep. So she decided to let him rest as much as he needed.

It was almost noon and Tyson hadn't given any sign of life yet. Hilary sighed. She leaned against the door frame of Tyson's bedroom, watching the slender figure of the teen sleeping peacefully wrapped in the sheets. She felt bad having to wake up him… He looked so adorable.

But she had to wake him up, or he wouldn't sleep that night.

Hilary came to the bed, knelt beside him to get to his height and slightly shook his shoulder.

"Tyson", she said to him with a smile. There was no answer but a slight groan, and she insisted with a little more force. "Come on, sleepyhead. It's time to get up."

"Mph…", the blunette turned his back to her, wrapping himself with the sheets, more asleep than awake. "Give me just a little more…"

Hilary sighed, crossing her arms. The days Tyson was a heavy sleeper, it was almost impossible to make him react.

But then she had an idea.

"Very well, Tyson. You asked for this", Hilary murmured, smiling mischievously. As quick as lightning, she climbed into the bed, boxed Tyson between her arms and pinned his legs with hers.

"… Hilary?", still half-clouded with sleep, Tyson's eyes tried to focus into her, confused. "What are you–?"

Before he could even finish the question, Hilary wriggled her fingers against the teen's sides, with that naughty smile on her lips. Immediately, Tyson flinched instinctively trying to protect his flanks, while a muffled laugh escaped his throat.

"Hilary, no! Please, stop tickling me!", he managed to stutter between laughs, unsuccessfully trying to get rid of her, but Hilary had the advantage in that fight. She mercilessly attacked his sides, his belly, his neck, so quickly that Tyson couldn't even see the Girl's hands coming.

"This is what happens when you ignore me…", Hilary said maliciously, deftly catching his right arm to slide her fingers over his ribs. "Such lousy regards you have with me…"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, Hilary!, but, please, stop!", Tyson could barely breathe from laughter, curling as if he could protect himself that way from the tickles. Hilary ignored his pleas and continued to do her thing, laughing as well.

"You should have thought about it before. Now it's time you pay the consequences."

For a few more minutes, Hilary kept torturing Tyson with all the tickling, until, without warning, he gathered his remaining forces and managed to escape from her grip and pull her down, trapping her in the same way she pinned him earlier on.

"I've got you…", Tyson grinned mischievously, gasping, with his face dyed scarlet, his navy cobalt hair messier than usual and his white shirt completely wrinkled. He held Hilary's wrists in his hands, although she made no effort to release herself.

"Oh, damn…", Hilary gave him the same playful smile. "Looks like you're not as asleep as it seemed. You even managed to catch me off guard…"

Tyson leaned forward, without losing the smile that drove Hilary crazy, something he perfectly knew. He stopped his face barely an inch from hers; Hilary felt his warm breath on her lips.

"Cornering me like this, Hilary…", Tyson murmured, never taking away his eyes from hers, staring at her with a naughty sparkle in them. "Such little respect you have for your boyfriend's personal space."

Before she could reply, the young blader closed the distance between them, linking his lips with Hilary's and gently pressing against them, eliciting a sigh from the girl that was drowned in the kiss. She immediately relaxed, as she always did whenever Tyson took the lead.

"Look who's talking", Hilary jokingly protested when they pulled away, raising her eyebrows. "You claim I invade your personal space when you're the first one that joins in to do the same."

"And more that I could do so…", Tyson snickered, accompanying his words by slowly trailing Hilary's neck with his lips. "But that moment hasn't come yet."

Hilary giggled, and pinned down as she was, brushed her nose against Tyson's forehead to get his attention while trying to free her legs from his.

"It's you who doesn't want to", when Tyson looked up, she stole him a quick kiss, and then looked at him pretending a pout. "What a hell of a gentleman you are, making your lady having to ask you to invade that space…"

"Don't tempt me", Tyson smiled naughtily, though he was blushing as much as her.

''How about I pay you with your same coin?"

"Oh, no. No way", Hilary stirred, giggling, trying to shake Tyson off of her. "Don't even think of tickling me!"

"It's you who started it, Hilary", Tyson replied, sliding a finger deliberately slowly down the girl's side. "What goes around, comes around."

"Come on, I did it for your own good my dear King Obviously Cute!", Hilary sulked, but that expression didn't last long when a small laugh escaped her mouth. "After what happened last night, I thought you'd feel better after laughing a bit, don't you?"

Tyson's gaze softened as he realized what Hilary truly intended to achieve with that tickle attack. He stared at her so lovingly that for a few second Hilary was left breathless, drowned in his marvelous orbs.

But not so long after, Tyson gave her that mischievous smile of his, and caught her lips between his in a playful kiss that Hilary didn't hesitate to return.

"If that's so, then let me return the favor… As long as you agree about I invade your personal space."


	5. Chapter 5: Mattress Hunt

"Tyson, quit standing outside and pouting like a three year old!"

"Why couldn't you go mattress shopping _without_ me?"

"Because we're _both_ sleeping on it, so I'm _not_ going to pick one out myself and have _you_ complain about it!"

Tyson threw his head back and groaned so over dramatically that Hilary had no choice but to roll her eyes. He still wasn't really moving, however, so Hilary grabbed a hold of the sleeve of his T-shirt and dragged him into the store, surprising her fiancé as always with her sheer strength.

Now that he was actually standing inside of the store, Tyson allowed his warm blue eyes to scan the merchandise from a distance. There were pure white mattresses as far as the eye could see, all of them situated on various styles of bed frames. The bare mattresses were even adorned by equally basic pillows, which Tyson found to be a nice, if not unnecessary, touch.

"Oh, Tyson, look at this one!"

The young man blinked and turned his head to the side. While he'd been busy surveying the interior of the store, Hilary had waltzed away from him and was examining one of the mattresses up close. Sighing, Tyson walked forward until he was standing next to his future wife, running his eyes up and down the soft rectangle of white.

"Isn't it nice?" Hilary crooned.

"Uh…it's a mattress," Tyson lamely commented.

"Not just _any_ mattress!" Hilary gasped. "It's one of those memory foam mattresses! Don't you feel how soft it is?"

Hilary pressed her hands into the cushion and then pulled them away, with two impressions left behind. She looked up at Tyson and grinned like it was the greatest thing she had ever seen. Tyson, on the other hand, could only hang his head and sigh.

God, this was so stupid.

"Come on," Hilary urged, grabbing Tyson's hand and pulling him down the length of the floor, "we have to find the perfect mattress!"

"Is there _seriously_ such a thing?" Tyson whined, trying to free his hand from Hilary's super human grip. He had known the woman for nearly ten years now, yet he was still stunned by how much strength the female possessed. He was almost certain, in fact, that Hilary was stronger than he was.

"Of course there is!" Hilary huffed as though it were obvious. "We've just got to look for it."

Their next stop was at a black mattress sitting atop a black, metal frame bed. The only difference between this one and the last one, as far as Tyson could tell, was the actual color of the mattress.

"Alright, Hilary," Tyson sighed. "Tell me what's so special about _this_ one."

Hilary leaned forward on her toes and read the sign that was perched in the middle of the mattress. "Well, this one is made out of foam. I bet it's not going to be as comfortable as the _memory_ foam one we just looked at, though. I really did like that one."

Tyson smirked and shook his head. He loved Hilary, of course he did. But the fact that she was actually taking _serious_ interest in this hunt was amusing him. It seemed almost silly, in a way. And that was coming from him, a self-admitted boy in a man's body.

"Oooh, what about _this_ one?"

Before he could even process anything, Tyson was once again being yanked along by his fiancée. This time, she was weaving them between mattress after mattress, not even paying the ones they passed a single thought. _Tyson,_ on the other hand, was just silently praying that his arm wouldn't be mercilessly ripped out of its socket while he was being dragged.

Finally, Hilary stopped by the side of a pure white rectangle, sitting atop a dark, cherry wood bed frame. Tyson could at least see a _slight_ difference between this one and the last two, and not just in the color.

"This one looks fluffier," Tyson commented, hoping that Hilary would be proud of him for actually noting a variance. Judging by the huge smile on her face, she was. Or she was at least happy that Tyson _seemed_ to be getting more into their little shopping trip.

"Yeah, this one is a pillow top mattress!" Hilary marveled, causing Tyson to raise a confounded eyebrow. "It's not really as squishy as the memory foam mattress, but it's softer. Like…really soft. Feel it!"

Tyson, realizing he didn't have much of a choice, simply sighed and reached one hand out to press into the soft fabric of the mattress. His hand sunk in, similar to the way it had with the first one, but unlike that first mattress, it was not as solid, nor did it leave a handprint behind when he finally removed his palm. It felt just like a pillow, in fact.

"Well, what do you think of that one?" Hilary asked hopefully. "How does it feel?"

"Like a mattress," Tyson replied smartly, causing Hilary's face to transform into an expression that Tyson was _very_ familiar with.

"Can you _try_ not to be such a smartass today?" Hilary hissed, punching Tyson in the arm. The blue haired man winced and started to rub at the sore spot. "We need to find a mattress for _our_ bed. That _we're_ going to share. In _our_ house. Because _we're_ getting _married._ "

"So you're meaning to tell me that you _seriously_ have to look at every single mattress in this store just to determine which one feels the best?" Tyson deadpanned, finally removing his hand from his arm. It was no use rubbing; he was certain there'd be a bruise there come morning.

"Of course I do," Hilary huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "We can't just settle on any old mattress! We have to buy the _best_ one, the one that we _both_ like."

"But I'm not really picky about all that kind of stuff," Tyson reasoned with the pretty brunette standing in front of him. "I mean, I can't imagine that you are either. You and I used to sleep on the _ground_ in sleeping bags!"

"Yeah, back when we were just _kids,_ " Hilary stressed. "But this is an important decision! We're going to be sleeping _next to_ each other. On whichever mattress we pick!"

Tyson raised an eyebrow at this and smirked, much to Hilary's confusion. "Well, if _that's_ what you're so worried about, walking around and just pushing your hand into the mattress really isn't going to tell you much, is it?"

Hilary slowly shook her head, closing her eyes out of irritation. "Tyson, what are you talking about?"

"Lie down," Tyson instructed simply, pointing at the mattress they were still standing in front of.

Hilary re-opened her eyes and cocked her head to the side. "Excuse me?"

"Lie down," Tyson repeated, still pointing his finger at the white rectangle.

Hilary's jaw dropped. "I'm not just going to lie down on a _mattress_ in the middle of a…in the middle of a…"

"Mattress store?" Tyson deadpanned as Hilary became frustrated and trailed off.

"Shut up," Hilary muttered, narrowing her eyes as her tone became acidic.

"Come on, Hil, you said it yourself," Tyson purred, causing a blush to crawl up onto Hilary's face. "We're going to be sleeping on whichever mattress we choose. So, you've got to test it out with your _whole_ body. Just try it. Trust me."

Hilary's eyes were still narrowed, and her arms were still crossed against her chest. Despite this, she finally walked right past Tyson, looking over her shoulder to continue glaring at him as she made her way over to the opposite side of the bed. Tyson watched her the entire time, seemingly unaffected by her gaze of death.

Looking around the store as if someone would rush out and attack her for trying such a thing, Hilary climbed onto the mattress and stretched her long, slender legs out on the bed, reclining back and allowing her head to rest against the mattress.

"Huh," Hilary murmured, staring up at the ceiling in deep thought. "It feels really nice…like a cloud, almost…"

Her quiet, out loud thinking was soon disrupted by a sudden weight coming down next to her. Her relaxed body effectively disturbed, Hilary furrowed her brow and turned her head to the side, finding herself staring at… _Tyson._ He had thrown himself onto the other side of the bed now, and was lying back with his arms folded behind his head.

"Tyson!" Hilary bit, her eyes once again narrowing.

"What?" Tyson rejoined nonchalantly. "You said it yourself. We're _both_ going to be sleeping on the mattress. So we _both_ have to make sure it's comfortable."

Hilary groaned and shook her head. She absolutely _hated_ it when Tyson used her own words against her. It meant she was stuck, and couldn't argue back.

"Well, since _you're_ testing it out now too, what do you think?" Hilary finally managed to ask.

"It's not bad…" Tyson mused. "Definitely soft. I could sleep on this."

"So, I guess this one is our favorite at the moment?" Hilary asked.

"Maybe…" Tyson murmured.

Hilary raised an eyebrow at Tyson's suddenly hesitant response. "What do you mean 'maybe'? You just said you could definitely sleep on it!"

"Yeah…" Tyson sighed. "I could. But…I have other concerns than just _sleeping_ on it…"

Before Hilary could react, Tyson rolled over, right on top of her. He was much heavier than she was, and as a result of this, she was trapped. Trapped right beneath him, like a Lion who had just caught its prey.

"Tyson, get off of me!" Hilary gasped, pushing at her fiancé's shoulders.

"But I have to see if this will work," Tyson teased, his lips bending into a smile against his will.

"We're in _public_ for God' sake!" Hilary hissed, still trying to get Tyson off of her.

"No one's here but us," Tyson murmured, lowering his head so his lips were pressed against Hilary's ear. "It's just you. And me. On a mattress. That we're going to share."

Hilary let out a shuttered breath as Tyson's words floated into her ear. So soft and sensual…they made her feel _so_ special. How many people loved her fiancé…loved him for his good looks, his title, his money, his fame. But she loved him for his personality, his charm, his sweetness, his nurturing soul.

And he had chosen her.

"That's what's going to happen, right?" Tyson continued whispering in Hilary's ear, his breath warm and voice low, husky and full of need. "We're going to be sleeping together in this bed."

"M-maybe not _this_ bed…" Hilary stammered softly, reaching her hand around to rub Tyson's back. She felt his soft shirt, and his shoulder blades right through it. She could feel the muscle of his back, rigid and strong. He was built so solidly.

"I don't know, I think this one is nice," Tyson continued, pressing himself more firmly against Hilary. She sunk further into the pillow top and closed her eyes, pushing her head back along with the rest of her body. "And I think you think so, too."

He kissed her ear, and Hilary gasped out of sheer pleasure. She was now gripping the material of Tyson's shirt with her fingers, gently pulling on it as she wrapped one of her slender legs around both of Tyson's more muscular ones. She squeezed her leg tight, binding his together and leaving him unable to move either of them. Tyson growled, right in her ear, and started to run his left hand through her silky brown hair.

"You don't want me to go anywhere, do you?" Tyson joshed. His voice was becoming heavier and heavier with desire. "You like this, don't you?"

Hilary sighed and kept her eyes closed. She felt as if she were to open them up and actually stare back at Tyson, she would lose all control. And then there'd be no turning back. She'd thought that this was bad enough, but now that she was actually enjoying it…well, she didn't want to think any further than that.

"This is a nice mattress," Hilary breathed, sliding her hand up from Tyson's back, along his neck, and into his hair, combing through the unruly locks with her fingers as he continued to toy with her own tresses. "It might just be _perfect…_ "

"You think so, huh?" Tyson murmured, closing his eyes and kissing the side of Hilary's neck. "You think it's perfect?"

"It's perfect as long as we're together," Hilary sighed, her voice trembling with want. "As long as we share it, I don't care _which_ mattress we choose…it'll be _perfect,_ no matter what."

Tyson smirked, his lips still pressed against the warm flesh of Hilary's neck. "That's what I was waiting to hear. You finally got it, Hil."

Hilary smiled up at her fiancé, who had finally reopened his eyes in order to grin back at her like a proud and pleased little boy. Letting out a small giggle, Hilary pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. Tyson got the hint and lowered his head in order to give Hilary a kiss on her puckered mouth, which the beautiful brunette was more than happy to reciprocate.

"Uh…could I help you two with something?"

The hair on the back of Tyson's neck stood up like the fur on a startled cat. He let out a shrill, throaty shriek, and pushed himself off of Hilary, rolling straight off the mattress and onto the hard floor, his solid body landing with a very audible _thud._

Blushing madly, Hilary pushed herself up on her elbows and found herself staring at an obviously confused salesman, who looked rather flustered and embarrassed with the situation himself. Definitely nowhere near the amount of shame Tyson and Hilary were feeling, however.

"Oh, yeah…" Hilary replied awkwardly. "We're uh…looking to buy a mattress…"


	6. Chapter 6-Midnight Conversations

The pitch black sky was dotted by bright, twinkling stars, the still night air peppered by the chirps of nocturnal birds. It was just past midnight, and everyone, had settled in for the night.

Well, there _were_ two exceptions.

Inside of a tent in forest that lay on a hill on the outskirts of Tokyo, Tyson Granger and Hilary Tachibana lay together, all snuggled up as they stared at the sky through a clear plastic window above their heads.

"This is really a brilliant invention," Hilary murmured, nodding towards the window. "Finally I can look at the stars without having to worry about a something ending up in my hair or my sleeping bag."

"Yeah, this would've been nice when we were kids," Tyson chuckled.

"Way less freaking out on my part," Hilary breathed amusedly.

"Hey, you said it, not me," Tyson snickered.

Hilary smirked and turned her head deeper into Tyson's chest. Physically, everything about him had changed with age. He was taller, broader, stronger. But his personality, thankfully, was still very much the same. Tyson was still as goofy, loving, and kind as he'd been the day Hilary had met him. Of course, this meant he was still a bit dense, and he could still get a little snarky from time-to-time, but Hilary wasn't sure she'd quite like him any other way.

He really was _her_ Tyson.

"Do you ever think about how crazy it is, how many places we've been together? How far we've traveled?"

Hilary blinked and gazed up at Tyson's face. "Well, you've been to way more places than I have."

"I guess, but we've still been all over the world," Tyson reasoned with her. "China, United States, United Emirates, Europe and even Kenya. And you know that one day I'll take you to all those places you've never been."

"Hmm, that sounds nice," Hilary breathed, temporarily closing her eyes. "I still wish I had been there the first time, though."

"I know you do," Tyson murmured gently. "But it was important for you to be at Kenny's side. Look at what an amazing assistant you've become thanks to me!"

"I guess," Hilary grumbled. "But being with you is better than being with that bookworm Kenny and that wretched brat Daichi."

"You won't get an argument from me there," Tyson chuckled.

Hilary rolled her eyes, but her lips were bent into a smile. "Sure. Whatever you say."

Tyson chuckled under his breath before falling silent once again. After a few minutes, however, he spoke again. "I thought about you all the time when I was away from you in Russia."

Hilary raised an eyebrow. "More than Beyblading? Or food?"

"Um…"

"I'm just kidding," Hilary scoffed. "I'm flattered you thought of me at all. That's very sweet."

"Of course I did," Tyson replied. "You mean a whole lot to me, Hil. I don't know what I'd do without you."

In the darkness, unbeknownst to Tyson, Hilary's face had turned bright red. She wasn't necessarily embarrassed by the admission; if anything, she was very touched by it. She was still glad, however, that Tyson couldn't see her face.

"You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say those words," Hilary practically whispered, slowly shaking her head.

Tyson gently laced her hair through his fingers, craning his head down to kiss her temple. "It makes me just as happy to say them."

Hilary sighed contently and lifted her left arm, outstretching her hand in front of the tent's rooftop window. The stars in the sky provided only the palest of lighting, but it was just enough to make the beautiful diamond ring on her index finger twinkle; brighter than any of the stars that hung high above her and her future husband.

''I love you Tyson,'' she lipsed, just above a whisper.

''I love you too, Hilary. More than anything in this world…''


	7. Chapter 7: Life as a Couple

Hilary sighed tiredly as she rested her head in her hand, her auburn eyes shifting towards the open door.

Tyson had been signing autographs for close to two hours now. All she'd been doing was watching him, but she was still exhausted. She could only imagine how Tyson felt after two straight hours of this.

Still, it was sweet to watch. Most of the people who had lined up for his autograph were young kids. It was obvious they wanted to be just like him…some had even _dressed_ just like him. Some of the kids were completely stars truck and barely able to speak, while the others were brimming with excitement and energy and talking non-stop. No matter what, Tyson made sure to indulge them. He would coax something out of the shy kids, and get just as enthusiastic as the outgoing ones.

Hilary couldn't help but to smile at the sight. Tyson really was the sweetest guy in the whole world…and he was all hers.

As the last kid scurried off, Tyson stood up from the table and stretched his arms over his head. Tucker, who had been sitting on the table, jumped onto his trainer's shoulder, nuzzling the young man's cheek. Tyson laughed in response and reached over to scratch behind Tucker's ears, earning a happy squeal that Hilary could hear even from several feet away. With the smile still on her face, Hilary got to her feet as Tyson entered the back room she'd been waiting in for him.

"All done?" Hilary asked.

"Yep!" Tyson replied. "I can't believe how many people showed up…"

Hilary's smile transformed into a smirk. "Were you really surprised that a lot of people wanted to meet the five time World Champion?"

"Kind of," Tyson admitted, surprising Hilary. "I mean, I'm just a normal guy."

Hilary's smirk widened as she shook her head. "I hate to break it to you, Tyson, but you're no normal guy. A World champion is a celebrity, especially when he's already announced he plans to defend his title."

Tyson smiled sheepishly at the mention. "Guess you're right. But still, _I_ don't think of myself as a celebrity. Do you?"

"Personally? No," Hilary admitted after a moment of deliberation. "To me, you're still just my lovable oaf of a boyfriend."

"Aw, thanks Hil!" Tyson chuckled before stopping himself. "Wait…oaf?!"

Now it was Hilary's turn to giggle. "Come on, aren't you hungry by now?"

"Don't change the subject!" Tyson whined, sounding more like one of the young kids he had just met rather than his 19-year-old self. "Quit calling me names!"

"Okay, fine," Hilary sighed. "What would you prefer me to call you?"

Tyson stopped for a moment to think, tapping on his chin as he did so. Tucker shifted his eyes over to his master, looking rather unimpressed. "How about…'the most attractive, smartest, talented Beyblade League champion and future Beyblade Champion to have ever lived'?"

Hilary shot her boyfriend a deadpan look. "Yeah right, like I'll ever remember _that_. Half of it is a lie anyway!"

Tyson blinked hard. "Which half?"

"That's for you to figure out," Hilary teased, throwing in a wink for good measure. "Now, I was serious about eating. Want to go get some food?"

Tyson's stomach managed to answer before he did. The teen laughed nervously and blushed, while Hilary just sighed and hung her head.

"Well, there's your answer!" Tyson finally replied. "Let's go!"

"Hold on!"

Tyson groaned and slowly turned back towards his girlfriend. "What? It was _your_ idea to get something to eat."

Hilary wordlessly strode forward, gently lifting up one of Tucker's little paws with her hand. Its fur was covered in black ink, and a matching paw print had been left behind on Tyson's shirt.

"Oh," Tyson murmured, turning his eyes towards his little dog. "Tucker wanted to sign autographs too."

"rau!" Tucker squeaked, nodding his head.

Hilary sighed playfully and released Tucker's paw, instead placing her hands on her hips. "You two may be a lot of work, but at least you're cute."

 **XXX**

Since they were in Osaka for the week, there was a new restaurant Hilary had heard a lot about and was dying to try. Tyson, who was never one to turn down the suggestion of any food, was happy to oblige. He did, however, have just one question for his girlfriend.

"Hilary, what exactly is the price point of this place?" Tyson asked as the two walked down the street hand-in-hand.

"Uh…what do you mean?" Hilary asked, putting on a false tone of bewilderment. She knew exactly what Tyson meant, but she didn't particularly want to answer him.

"I mean is this lunch going to burn a hole in my wallet?" Tyson pressed.

"Oh," Hilary murmured. "Well…I wouldn't put it _that_ way…"

Tyson groaned. "Why do you have to have such expensive taste? I mean, what if I want to save up money to buy you a-um…"

"A what?" Hilary prodded, one eyebrow rising.

"A…uh…new pair of shoes!" Tyson blurted. "Yeah, that."

Hilary smirked and shook her head. "I don't have _that_ expensive of a taste, you know. All the girls in our school were much worse than I am!"

"Yeah, but I'm not dating them," Tyson teased, inwardly relieved that his near screw up had been seemingly glossed over.

"I would hope not, considering they're all married by now," Hilary giggled.

"Doesn't matter," Tyson replied. "I still like you better."

Hilary grinned and turned to gently smack Tyson's chest. "When did you get so smooth?"

"Maybe I've always been smooth and you're just realizing it now," Tyson joked.

"Please, you used to be as smooth as a jagged rock," Hilary scoffed.

"That's _your_ opinion."

"No, that's _fact_. Do I have to call up Max and ask him?"

Tucker sighed and shook his head. He wasn't sure what was worse: Tyson and Hilary's serious arguments or the flirty ones like he was being forced to listen to now. The first hurt his ears, and the second tended to just gross him out.

Of course, the little puppy was just happy that his master and mistress were happy.

The couple's playful laughter and banter was soon disrupted, however, by the sound of a camera snapping. Hilary immediately looked up at Tyson and frowned, while he ground his teeth together.

"Stupid paparazzi," he muttered.

"Come on, let's just keep going," Hilary sighed, retaking Tyson's hand into her own. "If we move quickly enough, maybe we can get away from them."

"We can never get away from them," Tyson complained, although he picked up his pace per Hilary's suggestion. "They always find out exactly where we are! I swear, it's like they installed a tracking device on me!"

Hilary twisted her mouth in contemplation. "Hmm, not a bad idea. That could be useful for when I can't figure out where you are."

"Not helping!" Tyson cried.

Unfortunately, the two were thwarted in their attempts to escape fairly quickly. Almost as soon as they reached the street corner, a small group of photographers popped out at them. Hilary gasped and grabbed onto Tyson's neck, nearly strangling him in the process. Once she managed to calm down, however, her shock was easily replaced with anger.

"Hey, what's the big idea?!" Hilary fumed. "You can't just jump out at people like that!"

"Hilary, stop!" Tyson cried, his eyes widening. The photographers were visibly enjoying Hilary's outburst, and began snapping away even more quickly. This only heightened Tyson's anxiety, and without so much as thinking, he pulled Hilary behind him and ordered, "Tucker, go!"

The dog leaped off Tyson's shoulder and snarled at the paparazzi. _This_ succeeded in scaring the photographers off, Tyson letting out a relieved sigh as they ran away.

"What the hell was that?!"

Tyson whipped around, and was surprised to see that Hilary was now directing her anger towards him. "What do you mean what was that? I was saving your ass!"

"What does scaring them away with Tucker do?" Hilary demanded. "They'll still keep coming after us!"

"Yeah, and you going off on a rampage is going to keep them coming after us even more," Tyson stressed.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Hilary growled.

"You just said it before, Hil: I'm not a normal guy," Tyson sighed. "I really wish I was, but I'm not. And anything they can make a headline out of, they will."

"So what? You're saying 'crazy girlfriend' is a great…" Hilary trailed off at the end, her lips bending into a slight frown as she averted her eyes. Of _course_ the media thought that would make a great headline. Who wouldn't be entertained by the idea of potentially the world's strongest Beyblade trainer dating a mental case? "Damnit, you're right."

Tyson smiled sympathetically at his girlfriend. "Hey, I don't think you're crazy."

"Yeah, but _they_ do," Hilary grumbled.

"Who's they?" Tyson asked.

"Everybody else," Hilary groaned. "Come on, Tyson, don't get dense on me now."

"I'm not," Tyson assured, a smile on his face. "Hilary, the only person's opinion you should be concerned about is mine, and I love you just the way you are."

Hilary sighed and tilted her head. "But those photographers…"

"So what?" Tyson pressed. "They'll probably be back tomorrow to take more pictures. They're not all gonna be winners. Actually, most of them aren't. Last week, they took a picture of me eating lunch, and my mouth was open with a bunch of food spilling out…it was gross."

Hilary remained silent for a moment before replying, "This is why I'm always telling you to chew with your mouth closed."

Tyson raised an eyebrow, and Hilary couldn't help but to start giggling. "Really? I'm trying to make you feel better and you're picking on the way I eat?"

"I'm not picking on you!" Hilary was still giggling. She took a step forward and wrapped her arms around Tyson's shoulder, smiling up at him. "I love you. I really, really do, Tyson. You're pretty much the only person in the world who can make me feel better when I get too much into my own head."

Tyson returned her smile and gently placed a hand against the back of her head. "Thanks, Hil. I love you too."

He craned his neck down and pressed his lips against her own, his heart speeding up as he felt Hilary's lips curve up into a smile. She soon began to kiss him back, having to stand on her tip toes to reach him, much to her chagrin. Hilary's hands slowly moved up to thread his unruly blue hair through her fingers, while Tyson settled his hands on her hips, squeezing her gently.

Tucker blushed considerably at the sight and uncomfortably looked over his shoulder, trying his best to give the two privacy without actually running off somewhere.

Tyson's stomach began to growl again, and Hilary quickly pulled away, shooting her boyfriend a disbelieving look. Tyson, on the other hand, could only chuckle and sheepishly rub the back of his neck.

"Heh…guess we need to keep heading towards that restaurant, huh?"

Hilary smirked and shook her head. "I'm glad you just told me how much you love me."


	8. Chapter 8: Records

Hilary offered him her hand, swinging up from the couch in a move of authority. She wore a gentle smile on her face and her hair fell from behind her ears, and Tyson could not take his eyes from the sight. In the dim light of the living room, she radiated.

"You're dancing," she appreciated, a deep sense of happiness flowing in her heart.

It was as if his muscles could not disobey. The tension left his arms in a single breath – a sigh of giving in – and he felt her hand in his pulling him off the cushions of the couch. He could recall vividly the last time they danced, over a decade ago, at their wedding. Since then, his skills had gotten rusty with the lack of use. But Hilary, she was a natural at everything, and dancing was no exception. She patiently showed him where to place his hands, how to move his feet, and where the strong beat was to be followed. All without frustration. It was lucky Tyson was a quick learner, as the song only began its third chorus by the time he grasped the basics.

Hilary shifted her hands to form a circle around his neck and started to sway, no longer tethered by giving instructions.

"You really forgot everything, didn't you," she commented, her voice lower in volume now that there was less distant to cover.

"There hasn't been much _time_ for… dancing," came the answer. With everyone of Tyson's achievements, activities such dancing fell to the backseat.

"We really should change that," she decided, and Tyson could only hum in response before she continued. "I don't think the occasional night is too much to ask for."

In the time he might have answered, the music switched from Elvis to Frank Sinatra, and Tyson frowned at the odd progression, lifting a head in attempt to see the player and spell out the name of the record sleeve on top.

"Which one is this?" he finally asked, bringing his gaze back down once.

Hilary momentarily lapsed into pensive quiet. "The one you gave me five years ago, that very Christmas, I believe."

"All your favourite songs," Tyson finally remembered, eyes up at the ceiling as he pictured her excitement that evening. He let a smile settle over his features at the memory. "I remember."

"It's still one of my favourite gifts."

Tyson raised an eyebrow, only pretending to challenge the statement. Secretly, making it had been one of his greatest accomplishments.

She leaned in for a quick kiss, her reply of ' _yes_ ' hidden in the action. He could have stood there all evening and all throughout the night, all the way until the next day's sunbeams broke over the horizon. He could have stood there from here to eternity. But how unfortunate is was that _time_ pushed relentlessly onward and soon the record's spinning would slow and stop, and the needle would push itself back to its resting position off to the side. In anticipation, Tyson allowed a disappointed-tinged breath to escape; if he could prolong the moment, soak it in until the very end...

 _The record shows,_

He put his forehead against hers.

 _I took the blows,_

Their breath mingled in a shared place between them.

 _And did it my way._


	9. Chapter 9-Elevator Mischief

Days spent at the BBA headquarters were the worst in Hilary's book.

She couldn't _stand_ sitting behind a desk and doing paperwork all day. It was strict order from Kenny that she isn't supposed to touch anything from his lab. Hence the paperwork. But that's where she got stuck after every Tournament. There was such a lull for her immediately after the tournament that the officials thought it would be easier for the team members to spend the succeeding week at headquarters, filling out the concluding paperwork that arrived with the end of the tournament.

Hilary spent the entire week sitting at her desk and staring at the clock as she tapped her pen rhythmically against her desk. It was the worst thing in the world to her. She always felt like she was back in school! Not that she hated school!

 _Why? Why did I have to make such a big deal about Tyson getting late that day?_

What was even worse than just sitting at a desk and doing paperwork, however, was the fact that her husband was only five floors up from her, doing his own post-league work along with his teammates.

He was at headquarters a lot more often than she was, but he hated it just as much. Tyson was even more impatient than Hilary, so just sitting at a desk all day wasn't his idea of fun either.

"He must be ready to throw himself out a window," Hilary muttered, tapping her pen against the desk so hard that it went flying across the room. Sighing, the brunette reached across the desk and took another pen, staring contemplatively at her pile of paperwork before shrugging and going back to using her new pen as a drumstick.

 **XXX**

Tyson, on the other hand, had settled for using his desk as a pillow.

"Uuugh…"

Indeed, he hated being trapped in an office more so than even his wife. And it was worse for him because it happened so often. For Tyson, this wasn't a once-a-year occurrence. It was more of a monthly affair. One that Tyson never, ever looked forward to.

"I can't even tease Hilary from up here!"

Tyson rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling, lightly biting his lip as he did so. As soon as Daichi had heard Tyson was going to headquarters for the day, he had refused to tag along with his partner. The World Champion was willing to bet his little ''house guest'' was probably snoozing on the couch right now, spreading his disgusting snot everywhere.

"Lucky," he grumbled, lowering his head and wincing. That was another thing he hated about working at headquarters: the dress code. Ever since BBA was resurrected, there were just rules and regulations. For Tyson, there was nothing worse than being forced to wear a suit and tie _while_ stuck behind a desk all day. It was like a double dose of misery. Letting out a telling sigh, Tyson sunk down in his super luxurious leather chair and began to spin himself in circles.

"I am _soooo_ bored!"

 **XXX**

Despite their wallowing in private, Tyson and Hilary made sure to put on a very professional front when it came to their co-workers and superiors.

In Tyson's case, he didn't really have anyone who was in charge of him. Just Dickenson, but one didn't simply see Dickenson walking around headquarters. The old man was typically holed up in his own top floor office, and rarely came out unless he needed to have a private meeting with Tyson. Even then, Tyson was usually forced to go up to _Dickenson's_ office, and not the other way around. Despite this, Tyson was kind and cordial to absolutely everyone. It was part of his nature, after all. Talking to everyone and putting on a happy face was quite easy for Tyson, even when he was rather miserable after being stuck in a stuffy office all day.

Hilary, on the other hand, was not as easy as her husband. Of course, she was an adult, so she was able to handle herself just fine. She got along with everyone else, and managed to bite her tongue when they started to get on her nerves. But her frustration built up much easier than her husband's did, and a bad social exchange would typically lead to Hilary going back to her office and punching something. Typically, it was the pillow Tyson had given her specifically for such occasions. Originally, it had pissed Hilary off, but she'd punched the same pillow as a result, so clearly it was doing its job.

But, what neither one could stand was being asked about each other.

It was just the general nosiness that neither one liked. Their marriage was already enough of a public spectacle, so why did everyone feel the need to delve further into it? At this point, they were both surprised they hadn't been asked about what happened in their bedroom every night.

It also wasn't necessarily pleasant to be reminded that the incredibly attractive spouse you loved so much was in the same building as you at that very moment, separated by staircases and work requirements.

Fortunately, that was what lunch was for.

For as soon as the clocks in each of their offices struck twelve, Tyson and Hilary made the same mad dash towards the elevator, hoping to beat out the crowd of their co-workers.

Tyson would always get on first, seeing as he was higher up in the building than Hilary, and make sure to press the "four" button; the one that would take him to Hilary's floor. After a few seconds, the small space would stop descending, silver doors sliding open to reveal Hilary's beaming expression. She would stride into the elevator herself, black heels clicking against the floor as Tyson frantically pressed the "close doors" button to prevent any more passengers. He would succeed, and the happily married couple would proceed to jump one another, engaging in an intimate activity that was far too steamy for the professional setting that lay beyond the silver doors.

Hilary wrapped one leg around Tyson's waist, keeping the other foot on the floor for balance. Her skin tight turquoise sheath dress began to ride up her thigh, and that was fine by Tyson. He grabbed onto her backside, crashing his lips against her own and igniting a passionate kiss that electrified the both of them. His other hand was busy with her upper half, his fingers tangling through her loosely brown hair. Hilary's own hands were kept preoccupied as well: the left frantically tugging at Tyson's polka dot printed tie while her right tried valiantly to tear the black suit jacket off of his body. She managed to loosen the tie just enough for Tyson to properly fill up his lungs, and free one arm, his crisp white dress shirt wrinkling instantly upon the jostling. Eventually, her own air supply ran out, and Hilary had to pull away, leaning her head back and gasping for air while Tyson trailed kisses up the side of her neck. She gripped desperately onto his shoulder, the already crumpled white shirt folding beneath her fingers.

And then, the ominous ring sounded.

As the doors separated, Tyson and Hilary quickly followed suit and began to straighten out their clothes and hair: Hilary pulling down her dress and readjusting her curls, while Tyson shrugged his suit jacket back on and attempted to refasten his tie.

"I hate that stupid tie," Hilary grumbled, stepping out of the elevator as she continued to fix her hair.

"Me too," Tyson agreed, trailing behind his wife.

"I meant I hate the _print_ on it," Hilary sighed, marching towards the front door. "It's so cheesy."

"You've always liked the way it looks on the floor," Tyson quipped, pulling up next to Hilary and throwing her a cheeky smirk.

"Alright, calm down there, Mr. hotshot World Champion," Hilary warned. "We've only got an hour."

"Why's that gonna stop us?" Tyson muttered, grabbing Hilary's hand and rubbing against her side. "We only had like…fifteen seconds in the elevator!"

"Fine," Hilary grumbled, her resolve quickly melting away as her lips formed a smirk to rival her husband's. "But we'd better get something to eat afterwards."

At this, Tyson let out a whooping laugh and pulled his wife right out the door. "Now you're speaking my language!"


	10. Chapter 10: Sweet Admonish

"Tyson, don't do that."

No response.

"Tyson, I mean it! You're going to get hurt!"

No response.

"TYSON GRANGER, I WILL BREAK YOUR NECK IF YOU DON'T DO IT FIRST!"

Tyson turned around, flashing a dazzling smile at Hilary. "Come on Hil." The smile, and the fact that he had called Hilary by her nickname, was enough to make the hot headed manager's heart all but stop completely. "I'm not going to get hurt."

"So says you," Hilary huffed. "I know what I'm talking about."

"How?"

"Because it's not the first time you are doing this, you dolt."

"What's jumping off the cape gonna do?" Tyson murmured as he peered over the grassy edge at the ocean water that splashed down below. "It's just for fun!"

"I already told you. You'll break your neck."

"I won't."

"I'm not taking bets on that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to take bets on how you're going to kill yourself. That's why."

Smirking, Tyson stood back up and asked Hilary, "you mean to tell me you've never jumped off the cape before? Into the water?"

"No. Of course not."

"Why not?"

"Because that's dumb."

"Why?"

"Because it _is._ "

Tyson smirked, knowing full well that one simple action would get Hilary's blood boiling. "Give me one good reason as to why it's dumb."

"Because there are _rocks_ down there."

"Haha, yeah ri-wait, what?"

"In the water right underneath the cape, there are rocks," Hilary dully explained before glaring at Tyson. "You don't think I got that warning enough as a kid?"

"Uh…I…I…" Tyson stammered, looking between Hilary and the edge of the cape before gasping and gripping his head with his hands. "You mean I almost _broke my neck?!_ "

"Well, I wouldn't say _almost_ , because you actually used your brain for once and listened to me," Hilary quipped, causing Tyson to scowl. "It's more like you _could_ have, because you're…well…you're you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Tyson grumbled, folding his arms across his chest as he turned his head away indignantly.

"It means that you act before you think, which is stupid," Hilary replied easily. "That's why you get into so much trouble all of the time."

"Thinking takes too much time," Tyson complained with a pout.

"You're so impatient," Hilary sighed, brushing past the young man so she could reach the edge of the cape. She sat down and allowed her legs to dangle off of the edge, staring off into the distance above the sparkling water that splashed below. Tyson soon joined the brunette, sitting beside her and swinging his legs back and forth. "See?"

The boy squeaked, and whipped his head to the side so he was staring at Hilary. "See what?"

"You're kicking your legs back and forth," Hilary responded, pointing at his swinging limbs.

"So?"

"You're impatient."

Tyson's jaw quite literally dropped at this. "How does _swinging my legs_ prove that I'm impatient?!"

"Because you can't even sit still for five minutes. That's how."

"Yeah, okay," Tyson muttered sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. He was still swinging his legs back and forth, mostly to bother Hilary. And it seemed to be working well enough.

"You really shouldn't be so impatient."

Tyson smirked and looked at Hilary once more. "You really should stop telling me what to do."

"I'm not _telling you what to do!_ " Hilary argued, wanting to smack the smug grin off of Tyson's face. "I'm admonishing you!"

Tyson's smirk disappeared as he cocked his head. "What's that mean?"

"What?"

"Admonish?"

Hilary narrowed her eyes. "You seriously don't know what 'admonish' means?"

Tyson pressed his lips together and shook his head. Hilary, in turn, sighed dramatically and buried her face in her hands as she slumped her shoulders forward.

"Does it mean to boss someone around?" Tyson asked only half-jokingly.

"I will beat you," Hilary threatened, pulling her hands away from her face in order to point a menacing finger right in Tyson's face. The boy pulled back and blinked just once, staring at Hilary's finger as though it were the barrel of a gun. Rolling her eyes, Hilary lowered her arm and instead chose to simply glare at Tyson for asking such a stupid question and following it up with such a stupid comment. "'Admonish' means to warn you about something. I'm giving you _advice_ , not telling you what to do."

"Oh," Tyson murmured.

"I'm also not being bossy," Hilary seethed, shoving Tyson by the shoulder. At this point, however, he was much bigger and more solid than Hilary, and hardly budged when she pushed him. This only further aggravated the brunette.

 _Stupid puberty._

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I guess I don't really mind being _admonished_ by you," Tyson added, putting extra emphasis on the new word that Hilary had just taught him.

"Oh?" Hilary hummed in a slightly sarcastic manner. "And why's that?"

"Because at least it means I'm spending time with you," Tyson answered, bringing a considerable blush to the girl's face. "I'd rather be with you and get admonished _every five minutes_ than not be with you at all."

"You really mean that?" Hilary asked softly, rubbing her upper arm as she turned her head away. She didn't want Tyson to see just how red she was. Her face must have been as bright as her hair based solely on how hot her flesh felt!

"Of course I do," Tyson replied earnestly. "I wouldn't lie to you, Hil."

Hilary finally managed to get her blush to go down and picked her head back up to smile at Tyson. "That's…really sweet of you, Tyson. Really. Thank you."

"Heh, don't mention it!" Tyson chuckled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. He swung one of his legs back too far at that very moment, and ended up smashing the back of his heel against the rocky façade of the cape. "Ouch!"

Hilary shot Tyson a knowing look, which he completely missed because he was so busy nursing his now sore foot. "What did I say about swinging those legs back and forth, Tyson?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Tyson hissed, pulling up his foot and trying to yank off his sneaker.

"Maybe you should listen to me the next time I admonish you instead of just appreciating my presence," Hilary purred teasingly.

"Not gonna' happen, Hil. Not in a million years."


	11. Chapter 11: The Brave One

"Oh, Tyson, you're _so_ brave!"

Hilary rolled her eyes and leaned against a nearby tree, folding her arms across her chest as she glared at her boyfriend who stood only a few feet away from her along with another girl.

Another girl who Hilary did _not_ approve of.

It was quite obvious she was one of Tyson's fan girls, what with him being the World Champion that he was. But they had found her in the middle of the forest during their trek, looking quite confused. She had claimed she was lost, and while Hilary didn't really care, Tyson had jumped in right away and offered to help the girl.

The way her lips had curved up into that sickeningly sweet smile had made Hilary want to punch the little tramp square in the face.

Anyway, that little bimbo had been squealing and shrieking because a monkey had come too close to them. Hilary knew for a fact that the monkey wasn't going to do anything to them, because it was unprovoked. She was pretty sure Tyson had known that as well, since animals were the only thing he had any excessive knowledge about, but he had managed to calmly get the monkey away anyway in order to relax their new little "friend."

So now she wouldn't shut up about how "brave" Tyson was.

 _It's just an Monkey,_ Hilary thought acidly. _That_ hardly _makes him brave._

"Hilary, come on!"

The brunette snapped out of her reverie and found herself staring at Tyson and…the stupid auburn haired girl whose name was Mandy or something like that.

"What?" Hilary retorted, not willing to play nice with Tyson at the moment.

"We have to keep going," Tyson replied calmly, pointing down the path that was winding through the forest. "Or else we'll never get out of here before dark!"

Hilary was about to huff that she didn't really care when they would get out of the forest, but then she remembered they still had Maria with them, and that the sooner they got out of the forest, the sooner they'd be able to ditch her.

 _I hate it when Tyson makes a good point._

"Fine," Hilary grumbled, stepping away from the tree and rejoining the other two. "Let's go."

She marched alongside Tyson, making sure to stand between him and the girl, with her nose up in the air. She also made sure not to make any eye contact with the other female, either.

"Hilary, don't you think Tyson is so _brave?_ "

Hilary growled and awarded the girl next to her with nothing more than a steely side glance. "Why in the world would I think he's brave?"

"Because he got rid of that mean, old, nasty monkey!" The girl squealed. "All without getting us chased, too! That's so amazing!"

Hilary scoffed and threw her head to the side so her fiery brown locks swung out in the direction of the unfamiliar girl. Hilary had been hoping her hair had gotten long enough to have been able to whack Marissa right in the face. But it hadn't.

 _Too bad._

"That's not amazing _or_ brave," Hilary seethed, still refusing to look at the girl head on. " _You're_ just easily enamored, _Marley._ "

"Uh…it's _Maddie_ ," the girl corrected.

"Whatever, same difference," Hilary grumbled beneath her breath.

Tyson was, of course, completely oblivious to the two girls by his side who were not getting along. He was too busy thinking about all of the things they would do once they got out of the forest…with the first and most important item on the list being dinner. Hilary rolled her eyes at this once again, but couldn't help but to smirk. Her boyfriend _was_ awfully cute, especially when it came to his lack of navigation skills. He may have been dense, but he was sweet, and that was enough to make Hilary forgive him for being so compressed.

After what felt like an eternity to Hilary, but was really only about ten minutes, the trio finally reached the end of the forest. Maddie beamed and ran straight out into the sunlight, giggling before turning on her toes and grinning at Tyson.

"Oh, you really _are_ the best!" Maddie fussed, causing Hilary to scowl. "I can't believe the _champion_ helped me out of that forest, and was brave enough to scare away a monkey! All of my friends are going to be _so_ jealous!"

"Glad we could help!" Tyson chuckled, obviously including Hilary in his statement. The manager of the Bladebreakers, of course, wanted nothing to do with the whole mess, but she chose to stay silent and not ruffle any feathers.

"It was great walking through the forest with you guys!" Maddie trilled. "Hopefully we'll meet up again someday!"

"Yeah, and then we can have a battle!" Tyson added. Hilary resisted the urge to smack him upside the head.

"Bye, Maggie!" Hilary finally called, waving at the bewildered female standing before them.

"Well, at least you were _kind of_ close this time…" Maddie sighed before waving at the two and going off her own way.

"She was really nice!" Tyson chirped, turning right and heading down that path. Hilary's eyes widened and she quickly followed after her boyfriend, keeping pace at his side while maintaining her grumpy expression.

"I bet you're only saying that because she called you brave," Hilary accused. "Which was a dumb comment anyway."

"Hey, I _was_ brave!" Tyson argued.

"For what?" Hilary scoffed. "Keeping a monkey away from Maisie?"

"Yeah! And…her name was Maddie, not Maisie."

"Whatever. Still, that's not being brave! If anything, that's being _reckless_."

"Well, _Maddie_ sure didn't think so," Tyson hummed.

"I don't give a damn about Maddie!" Hilary hissed, causing Tyson to take a cautious step back. "Learn to not be so crazy, won't you? There's a difference between being brave and being stupid, after all."

"Yeah, but _that_ was brave!"

"It wouldn't have been so brave if its pack had ripped you limb from limb," Hilary calmly countered.

"No, it wouldn't have," Tyson agreed. "But that didn't happen!"

"I'm just giving you a fair warning is all."

Tyson folded his arms across his chest. "Okay, Hilary. If that was being stupid, then what do _you_ consider being brave?"

Hilary's eyebrows raised in interest. "What? You want _my_ opinion?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Alright then," Hilary mused. "My idea of being brave is…is someone like me!"

"Someone like _you?_ " Tyson deadpanned.

"Yeah, someone like me," Hilary retorted. "I'm your team's manager! I have to face tons of young fangirls every day, and it's my not a part of my job but I try and keep them away, while at the same time I nurture your young fans and help them to actually want to achieve their goals and dreams! And sometimes, those kids are rough to deal with. _That's_ being brave!"

"Hardly," Tyson muttered under his breath.

"What was that?!" Hilary demanded.

Suddenly, a nearby bush rustled, causing Tyson and Hilary to stop their arguing and turn their heads towards the shaking shrub. After a few seconds, a small raccoon came crawling out of the bush and into the middle of the path. Hilary let out an ear splitting scream and jumped into Tyson's arms, startling both her boyfriend _and_ the little rodent.

"AH! A RACCOON! GET IT AWAY, GET IT AWAY! TYYYYSSSOOONN!"

"Oh, yeah, you're a _real_ brave one, Hil," Tyson snickered, shaking his head while the brunette trembled in his arms.

"SHUT UP AND GET RID OF THAT STUPID THING RIGHT THIS SECOND!"


	12. Chapter 12: The Diamond Ring

Tyson couldn't _help_ but to walk around with the world's biggest smile on his face.

He had a great job as the Beyblade World Champion, and was currently training to defend his title for a challenge to be held in San Diego. He had tons of fans and made a healthy living. His possessed the best bit beast anyone could have possibly asked for, and best of all, he had the most beautiful girlfriend in the entire world.

Life certainly was good, and Tyson couldn't help but to feel as though the weight of the world was far off of his shoulders. He was as happy as could be.

"So, Hilary, when are you expecting that ring?"

Tyson skidded to a halt and allowed his eyes to widen out of shock.

"Shh!" Tyson hushed a few kids he was signing autographs for, pressing himself against the wall next to the doorway that led into the lobby of the BBA headquarters.

"I don't know, Emily."

"Well, haven't you been waiting like… _forever_ for it?"

"I guess so, but I can't rush things. It's out of my control."

"Not if you put it _into_ your control!"

"What do you mean?"

Tyson bit his lip and peered into the room without making his face fully visible. He was able to see Emily and Hilary in the room; Emily sitting behind the lobby desk and filing her nails while Hilary was resting her elbows on the counter. She was still dressed in her ordinary clothes: in skin tight, lime green spandex shorts and a printed sports bra with a blue and green windbreaker thrown over the skimpy ensemble. Normally, Tyson would've been turned on by such a sight, but he was currently too preoccupied with the conversation going on between the two.

"Just get extra bossy," Emily sighed as though it were obvious. "You know, kick and scream and carry on. You're good at all of that, aren't you?"

"Thanks," Hilary bit sarcastically as she scowled at the redhead.

"Don't mention it!" Emily giggled, obviously having missed her acerbity.

"It just doesn't seem right to me," Hilary murmured, resting her head in her hand.

"It may not be _right_ , but sometimes when you want something done, you've got to do it yourself," Emily concluded, waving her nail file in the air as she spoke. "Men don't understand anything, I swear."

"You do have a point," Hilary finally admitted, lowering her hand and tilting her head to the side. "Guess that's what I'll have to do if I want to get the ring."

"Oh my gosh, you're _finally_ taking advice from me!" Emily squealed, causing both Tyson _and_ Hilary to wince. "I'm ordering Chinese food to celebrate!"

"Yeah, you do that," Hilary muttered as she turned away from the desk.

Heart now pounding in his chest, Tyson darted in the opposite direction, back towards the same front door he'd just walked through minutes earlier. The two glass panels slid apart and allowed Tyson entrance into the outdoors, where he stopped only two feet in front of the building before bending at the knees and leaning down to try and catch his breath.

"Oh man, Hilary wants me to _propose_ to her!" Tyson gasped. "I don't know if I'm ready for that yet. But I don't want Hilary to break up with me!" Tyson moaned. "I love her too much! Oh, what do I _do_?"

"Tyson, what are you doing out here?"

The champion gasped dramatically and whipped around, staring at Hilary with such a terrified expression that it threw the manager completely off guard.

"Jeez, Tyson, you look like you just saw a ghost," Hilary muttered. "Do I really look that hideous today?"

"No, no!" Tyson cried, waving his hands in front of himself. "Of course not! You look beautiful! You _always_ look beautiful, Hil!"

"Uh…right," Hilary drawled, still confused by her boyfriend's flustered disposition. "Anyway, Emily's ordering Chinese food. Do you want to come inside and look at the menu?"

"Yeah, sure, why not!" Tyson laughed nervously. "It's just food, right? I love food! Like… _love_ it!"

"Are they giving you some new energy drink, Granger?" Hilary demanded with a raised eyebrow. "Because, if I were you, I'd stop drinking it."

"I'll look into it," Tyson muttered, hanging his head in apparent shame.

"Well, it's nothing to beat yourself up over," Hilary comforted her boyfriend in a bewildered manner. "You live and learn. Maybe you just need some food in your system. Come on."

Tyson bit his lip once again and nodded his head, following Hilary back into the lobby. For once in his life, however, Tyson couldn't even _think_ about food.

All he could think about was potentially becoming an engaged man by the end of the week.

 **XXX**

"…what?!"

"Exactly what I said."

Max stared at his best friend in complete and utter shock. Tyson, on the other hand, sat across from the blonde with his face buried in his hands.

The two friends had met up at a pub located across the town. Tyson had called Max the day before, telling the teammate that he needed advice on an important subject. Max, not wanting to leave Tyson alone, agreed to meet up with him and discuss the issue. Now that it was out in the open, however, Max was a little thrown off.

"You do know I've never had to deal with this before, right?" Max questioned seriously. "I mean, I have in my dreams, of course, but real life…"

"I know you haven't, but I need advice," Tyson groaned, finally picking his head up. "I can't go to Grandpa or Chief, because they'll freak out and get all excited and it'll just be bad. And if I tell any of our _female_ friends, they'll just go blabbing to Hilary. Hell, even _Rei_ might open his mouth! You're the only one I know I can trust, Max."

Max smiled at the younger male. "That means a lot, Tyson."

"So do my male parts, and I don't need Hilary cutting them off," Tyson grumbled.

"Aw, you had to ruin such a nice moment," Max sighed.

"Sorry. I'm just stressed."

"I know you are," Max comforted with a smile on his face. "I was just teasing. So, Hilary's expecting a ring, huh?"

"That's what she and Emily made it sound like."

"Well…you love Hilary, don't you?" Max asked.

"Of course I do, more than anything," Tyson replied. "But…I don't know if I'm ready to be married yet. We're still so young!"

"Right," Max pressed. "But…you _love_ her?"

"Yes…" Tyson murmured, shifting his eyes from side-to-side.

"Then I think you should buy a ring and hold onto it," Max settled. "You know you love Hilary, and you'd like to be married to her someday. If she starts to get too impatient, you get down on one knee and propose. Besides, there's no rule on how long an engagement is supposed to last. Just because you and Hilary are getting engaged doesn't mean you have to get married the next day! Some couples are engaged for _years_ before they actually get married!"

"I always know I can count on you, Max," Tyson chuckled with a smile on his face. "You made me feel so much better, just like that!"

"I try," Max sighed laughingly.

"So…what kind of a ring do I buy for Hilary?" Tyson continued, his eyes flickering with confusion.

"Don't you worry about that, Tyson!" Max cried in a determined fashion, pounding his fist just once against the table and alarming Tyson. "I'm here to help!"

 **XXX**

That same afternoon, Tyson returned to his personal gym situated across the headquarters with his wallet a little lighter and his pants pocket a little heavier.

He had chosen a ring, with the assistance of Max, that he figured was perfect for Hilary. Reaching into his pocket, Tyson pulled out the black velvet box and flipped it open, examining the piece of jewelry that was nestled inside: a ten karat white gold band with two rows of round diamonds surrounding a larger center diamond. It had cost Tyson quite a pretty penny, but it _was_ very beautiful, and Tyson just knew Hilary would love it.

Or…at least he _hoped_ she would.

The front doors to the gym slid open, and Tyson hastily stuffed the ring box back in his pocket. As soon as he had the box hidden, Hilary emerged from inside, her whole face looking quite angry.

"Hey there, Hil," Tyson greeted timidly. "What's up?"

"I'm _furious_ , that's what's up!" Hilary stormed, causing Tyson's eyes to widen. "Do you know how long I've been waiting, Tyson? _DO YOU_?"

"Uh…I…"

"I swear, _someone_ is going to get an _earful_ if I don't get this thing by the end of the day!" Hilary seethed.

Tyson almost choked on air. _The end of the day?_ He was going to have to _propose to Hilary by the end of the day?!_

 _Maybe I should just do it now,_ Tyson thought alarmingly to himself. _Because she_ really _doesn't sound happy, and she's not going to be until I give her what she wants!_

"Hilary…" Tyson began slowly, bringing the brunette's harsh glare back onto himself. "Um…I was just wondering if-"

Just as Tyson was sneaking his hand into his pocket, and before he could get down on one knee, a truck pulled up in front of the building, its horn causing Tyson to jump nearly five feet in the air. Hilary looked over her boyfriend's shoulder and watched as the delivery man approached her with a large, almost flat cardboard box.

"Package for Hilary?" He asked, reading off of the box's mailing label.

"It's about time!" Hilary snapped, taking the box from the visibly frightened worker. Remembering it wasn't _him_ she was mad at, Hilary smiled sweetly at the stranger and crooned, "thank you!"

"Uh…don't mention it…" the man murmured before running back to the safety of his truck.

Tyson watched the man sprint, and then looked back at Hilary, who was now holding the package beneath her arm with a big smile on her face. "What's in the box, Hil?"

"It's a diamond ring!" Hilary giggled, leading Tyson's eyebrows to shoot up his forehead.

"Wh-what?!" Tyson stammered.

"My mom's birthday is just around the clock and I wanted to gift her something really special. So I asked Emily for help and she helped me track the best jewellery store in New York!''

"But…what…huh…" Tyson panicked.

"It cost me a penny and I bought it instantly, but they'd been slacking on it ever since," Hilary sighed. "I finally got fed up and asked Emily what to do. She told me to start complaining constantly, and that seemed to do the trick, because here's my ring!"

She motioned towards the box, not even noticing that Tyson's jaw had been dropped for the past five minutes and refused to go back up.

"She's gonna be _so_ excited that I finally present her this!" Hilary squealed.

Before Tyson could formulate any words, Hilary turned around and ran back into the gym, squealing excitedly. Tyson, on the other hand, could only hang his head and moan desolately

"I wonder what the return policy on engagement rings is…" Tyson muttered.


	13. Chapter 13: Manipulation

**Don't you just love when Hilary tortures Tyso** **n** **? It renders me** **hilarious XD**

* * *

"Tyson, could you take me for a smoothie?"

Tyson blinked and looked up from the newspaper, eyeing the young woman was now hovering over him with a sweet smile on her face.

"Hilary, I-"

" _Pleeease?_ " Hilary crooned, widening her eyes and sticking her lips out in a pouty fashion.

"Sure!" Tyson squawked, leading Hilary to smirk. "Let's go!"

The brunette giggled and began striding towards the door to get her jacket off of the hook. Tyson raised an eyebrow, not understanding what was so funny, but still got up and followed his girlfriend regardless.

"Tucker!" Tyson called, cupping his hands around his mouth. "We're going out for smoothies! Come on!"

The beagle poked his head out from the top of the stairs and scowled at Tyson. Once again, the young man was confused as to why he had received _that_ specific reaction.

"Rowww'', the puppy groaned.

"Whaddya mean no?!" Tyson cried.

"Woof!" Tucker grumbled, shaking his head back and forth so his ears bobbed.

"You're tired?" Tyson repeated, leading his dog to nod. "But I have to take you for a walk anyway! So why not tag along just now?"

"Woof-," Tucker whined.

Tyson sighed and ran a hand through his untamable raven locks. "Well, I guess if you're _really_ that tired…"

Tucker chirped, his ears drooping as he spun around and headed back towards whichever room he had just been napping in.

"Guess that'll just have to wait," Tyson murmured to himself as he followed after a highly amused Hilary through the front door.

 **XXX**

After getting their tasty drinks, Hilary urged Tyson to take a slightly longer walk with her to enjoy their smoothies in the fresh air instead of inside the juice shop. Tyson wasn't entirely big on the idea; the walk to the shop had already been long enough, in his mind.

But then Hilary put on her little pout again, and Tyson just couldn't refuse.

So, they made their way down to the Park and sat on a bench in a quiet, secluded area that was surrounded by nothing more than trees. Tyson always felt a little empty without his Kenny not to be soon around, but now that he and Hilary were dating, it wasn't so bad to be without him. Alone time with Hilary had quickly become one of Tyson's favorite things to do.

"So, I was thinking that tomorrow, we could go shopping," Hilary suggested.

"Shopping?" Tyson finally repeated after taking a long sip of his pineapple smoothie. "What _kind_ of shopping?"

" _Clothes_ shopping," Hilary giggled gently, swirling her smoothie straw around in its cup.

"I don't need clothes!" Tyson whined.

"But _I_ do," Hilary tried.

"You have an entire closet full of clothes! I've seen it!"

"Yeah, but I need _more_ clothes," Hilary valiantly continued. "It's almost fall, after all. Of the new stuff is out! Besides, you might find something cute for yourself."

Tyson turned his head and gave Hilary an incredulous glare. "I _don't_ dress _cute_."

"Fine. _Handsome_. Whatever you want to call it," Hilary sighed with a roll of her eyes. "So, what do you say?"

"But I'll be at work all day tomorrow," Tyson groaned. "Training for that stupid evaluation."

"I meant _afterwards_. I'll be there too, you know."

"I don't know…"

"Please?" Hilary pleaded, batting her full eyelashes at the already conflicted boy. He tried to ignore the action, but it was pretty hard to do when Hilary was already halfway onto his lap.

"Oh, fine," Tyson grumbled, leading Hilary to whoop victoriously.

"I knew I'd get you to say yes!" Hilary cheered.

"How'd ya' know that?" Tyson demanded, raising a wry eyebrow.

"Because you're so _easy_ , that's how!" Hilary giggled, leaning back against the bench as she began to sip her smoothie once again.

"I am _not_ easy!" Tyson refuted, his jaw dropping at such a suggestion. "I haven't even let you into my pants yet!"

"God, not like _that!_ " Hilary shrieked, her entire face turning red with embarrassment. "I meant easy to _persuade_. And not into…that!"

"Oh…" Tyson murmured before furrowing his brow angrily once again. "I am _not!_ "

"Yes you are."

"Are not!"

"Are too."

"Are not!"

"Only children argue this way, Tyson," Hilary chided the boy as though he were nothing more than a child himself. "Besides, you know I'm right."

"You're not right!" Tyson screeched.

"Whatever you say, buddy," Hilary snickered, obviously getting a kick out of her boyfriend's apparent aggravation on the subject.

"I am _not_ easy! And I'll prove it to you!" Tyson stormed.

"How are you going to prove it to me?" Hilary sighed laughingly. "You can't even say no to Tucker!"

"You'll see," Tyson murmured, dramatically squeezing his smoothie cup. "The _next person_ who asks me to do something for them, I'll say no to! Just you wait! That'll _prove_ to you I'm not easy!"

"Oh, _this_ should be good," Hilary breathed, smirking at her determined boyfriend as she slipped the smoothie straw into the corner of her mouth.

 **XXX**

After finishing their smoothies, Tyson practically _dragged_ Hilary all the way back to his house, anxiously awaiting the first request he would get to do something so he could promptly turn it down.

 _She's going to see that I'm not such a pushover!_ Tyson thought excitedly. _I'll prove Hilary wrong, and she'll have no choice but to admit she was wrong! And I know for a fact that there's nothing Hilary hates more than being wrong._

Because of his rising fame, Tyson had halfway expected someone to ask him for a favor on the way back. An autograph or perhaps some advice. That didn't happen, so Tyson decided to just settle for the house. He was expecting Tucker to be waiting by the door, anyway, wagging histail. Probably going to beg for some treats.

As soon as Tyson swung the door open, he spun around and grinned almost manically at his girlfriend, who took a small step back in response.

"Ready to be proven _wrong_ , Hil?" Tyson trilled as he closed his eyes in bliss.

Hilary silently rolled her eyes up as she brushed past Tyson, making sure he felt her as she walked on by.

"YO DUDE! Run by the store and shop on some veggies will ya?''

"Nope!" Tyson chirped, his smile growing even wider as he made the refusal. "You can go do that yourself!"

No response.

Still grinning, Tyson spun around and opened his eyes, ready to laugh in Hilary's face for thinking she could _possibly_ trick him into saying yes. What he found, however, was that Hilary was no longer in the room, and he was now standing face-to-face with his _very_ angry old man.

"Gramps?!" Tyson squawked.

"What was that? Wanna taste the sword!" Grandpa demanded, his amber eyes glimmering with fury.

"N-nothing!" Tyson stammered, his whole face turning red. "I'll run to the market right now and pick up those vegetables for you!"

Before Grandpa could say anything else, Tyson whipped back around and ran right out the door, not even bothering to look back. From the next room over, Hilary poked her head in through the doorway and smirked.

"That stupid boy," Hilary muttered as she shook her head. " _So_ easy!"


	14. Chapter 14: Flirty Tyson

**I got this idea from a very lame meme XD**

* * *

"Max, how do I flirt?"

The blonde man glanced up at his best friend, who was wearing an anxious and bewildered look on his face.

"Tyson. Are you alright?" Max muttered.

"I'm serious, Max," Tyson whined. "How do you flirt?"

"Who? Me?" Max questioned, pointing at himself.

"Uh…not necessarily," Tyson murmured, causing Max to scowl. "I kind of just meant in general."

"How complimentary," Max seethed, causing Tyson to raise an eyebrow. "Why do _you_ need to know how to flirt, anyway? Seems like a pretty random request to me."

"Why would it be random?" Tyson chuckled nervously. "I'm a teenage boy! Isn't that _natural_ to want to flirt?"

"Not when it's you, Tyson," Max sighed, leading the blunette to frown. "Look, I'm not saying you're _not_ a normal guy. It's just…all you've ever cared about is food and Beyblading. Now, all of a sudden, you want to know how to attract girls? Uh…we are talking about _girls_ , right?"

"Yes!" Tyson wailed as his whole face turned red.

Max smirked and placed his textbook down on the table he was sitting behind, folding his arms across his chest. "Any girl in _particular?_ "

"Uh…no?"

"You might need some help with lying, too," Max snickered, while Tyson's blush only grew in intensity. "So, come on. Tell me who it is!"

"Uh…Hiwwwy" Tyson mumbled under his breath.

"What?" Max pressed, leaning forward in his seat.

"HILARY!" Tyson cried, immediately covering his mouth after the truth came out. Max just sat there in what appeared to be shock, although a smile soon grew on his face.

"I knew it," Max whispered.

"Don't tell anyone," Tyson urged, his eyes flashing with fear.

"Relax, Tyson, I'm not a jerk," Max comforted the teammate, still with a smile. "Besides, I'm happy for you! I've been waiting to hear this since you guys were a couple of hot headed ten-year-olds. I'm more than willing to help you out with her."

"Really?" Tyson asked, his whole face lighting up at the prospect.

"Sure!" Max crowed. "In fact, I'm honored that you asked _me_ of all people to help you out! I can include it in my best man speech at the wedding."

"Uh…what wedding?"

"Don't worry about it," Max chuckled huskily, his eyes glinting with mischievousness. "You just leave it all up to me!"

 **XXX**

Hilary groaned dramatically and twirled around in a small circle before throwing herself face down on one of the couches in the trainer's room.

It had been a long day. she had to run behind Daichi all day long, manage the team's schedule, assist in Kenny's technical work that was beyond her, and constantly getting teased about Dizzi about Tyson. Hilary had nothing much to be proud of, in fact! But, at the moment, she was too tired to care. All she wanted was a nice, long nap. And then some dinner once she was done napping.

Just as she began to doze off, however, she could hear the door to the trainer's room jiggle open, accompanied by a footsteps enter. With her face still buried in the couch cushions, Hilary scowled. This was the _last_ thing she'd wanted to put up with after her never ending day.

"Tyson's not here!" Hilary bit, finally picking her head up. "Get lost!"

" _Ouch_ , is that how you're greeting your _friends_ now?"

Hilary's eyes widened and she jumped nearly five feet in the air. Regaining her place on the couch, Hilary whipped her head around and found herself staring at Tyson, who was wearing his typical "smartass" look. That should have pissed Hilary off even more, but for some reason, she was quite happy to see the blue raven haired boy.

Even with that stupid look on his face.

"Oh, sorry, Tyson," Hilary apologized earnestly. "I thought you were another fan. I can't deal with them anymore! Not today, anyway. I've had enough. I should take a vacation."

"A vacation?" Tyson repeated with a slight purr.

Hilary raised a wry eyebrow and pulled her knees up to her chest. "Uh, yeah?"

"Oh, so you could like on a beach…totally wear a bathing suit and stuff!" Tyson added.

Max, who was spying on the two from outside, slapped a palm against his face. Already, Tyson was proving to be one miserable failure of a student.

"I…huh…why would you imagine me in a bathing suit all of a sudden, Tyson." Hilary lamely replied. Normally, she would've called Tyson out for being so dumb, but right about now, she was just too confused to.

"Oh, I don't know exactly," Tyson chuckled nervously, a delicate blush gracing his tan cheeks.

Hilary sighed and got up from the couch, stretching out her arms and legs as she began to walk towards the desk. Tyson gasped and whipped around, looking frantically for Max through the glass pane on the door. Fortunately, he was peeking over at that very moment, and began to point his finger vehemently at Hilary, silently ordering Tyson to follow her.

He nodded out of determination and immediately set off after the brunette, nearly running into her as he made his way over to the desk a bit too quickly. Once again, Max merely hung his head in shame.

"Tyson, _what_ are you doing?" Hilary asked plainly as she spun around to face the blader, tapping her fingertips against the desktop.

"Uh…just…checking you out!" Tyson trilled, as though that was a perfectly normal comment.

" _WHAT?!_ " Hilary shrieked, self-consciously backing herself up until she was _sure_ her behind was pressed against the desk and out of Tyson's eyesight.

"No, no, not like that!" Tyson cried, panic rushing through his veins. "I mean…uh…what I meant to say was…I want to arrange you and I! Like the alphabet!"

Hilary's considerable blush vanished as she instead raised a single eyebrow once again, completely confounded by her friend's strange behavior.

"It was supposed to be _'if I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put you and I together'_!" Max hissed from outside. "Damnit, Tyson."

"Did you hit your head on the way over here?" Hilary asked in a very serious fashion.

"No," Tyson innocently replied.

"Are you positive?" Hilary pressed. "Because you sure are acting strange…"

"I'm not acting strange!" Tyson argued. "I'm just trying to see if you fell from Heaven!"

Hilary _winced_ at that one. Tyson did too, as a matter of fact. Coming out of his mouth, it sounded so sickeningly…sweet. It made him nauseous. Tyson was beginning to feel like maybe Max had set him up for failure.

"Tyson, is someone feeding you lines?" Hilary queried.

"No!" Tyson vehemently denied.

"Really?" Hilary hummed, striding up next to Tyson and looking in both of his ears, much to the trainer's aggravation. "Hmm…I don't see any wires."

"This isn't a spy operation!" Tyson shouted.

"Maybe not, but those pickup lines sure need work," Hilary scoffed, much to Tyson's horror.

"What…uh…those weren't-"

"Oh, Tyson, of _course_ they were," Hilary sighed. "You took all of the lamest lines known to man and screwed up each and every one. Who taught you that crap in the first place? Max?"

Tyson furrowed his brow as Hilary began to laugh _hysterically,_ obviously finding her little "theory" to be quite hilarious. Not wanting to give himself away, Tyson too began to chuckle along with the manager, albeit more nervously and hesitantly than she was.

"Heh, yeah…good one, Hil!" Tyson choked out.

From outside, Max was lying on the ground, curled up in a ball and looking rather dejected. "Those lines aren't crap," Max whimpered to himself. "They're classics!"


	15. Chapter 15: Tyson's Precious Hat

"HILARY!"

Tyson received no response as he burst through the front door. He had just woken up from taking a nap outside, and when he had come to, he'd realized that something _very_ important was missing. Something that he never let out of his sight.

"HILARY!" Tyson barked again, eyes narrowing as he poked his head into the kitchen, and then the living room. "Come on, I KNOW you're in here somewhere!"

Charging up the stairs, Tyson continued to look into each and every room that lined the hallway, from the bathroom to the linen closet to their shared bedroom.

And his wife was nowhere to be found.

"Ugh, _Hilary!_ " Tyson groaned, allowing himself to sink onto the end of the bed.

"Why do you sound so frustrated?" Hilary queried.

"Because I was taking a nap outside, underneath the big oak tree," Tyson explained, his brow quickly furrowing in frustration as he continued. "And, when I woke up, my hat was missing!"

"So?" Hilary quipped.

"I think someone stole it!" Tyson cried.

"Oh, no one stole it," Hilary giggled at the notion. "I got rid of it!"

"WHAT?!" Tyson screamed, causing Hilary to flinch.

"Exactly what I said," Hilary murmured. "I got rid of it."

Tyson's jaw dropped, and his eyes widened as his face paled. "Why in the hell would you throw out my hat?"

"I didn't say _throw out_ , I said _got rid of_ ," Hilary rectified. "That's two different things."

"No it isn't!" Tyson wailed. " _Why_ would you do that?!"

"Because I'm sick and tired of seeing you with that tattered hat on your head!" Hilary argued. "You're an adult, Tyson. It's time to let the hat go!"

"I will _never_ let my hat go!" Tyson wailed. "Not until the day I die! I swore that the first time I put it on!"

"First of all, I didn't trash your first hat, so I don't see why you're getting so upset," Hilary grumbled. "Besides, you made that little promise to yourself when you were like… _ten_ , so who cares? You're grown up now. You've got more important things to focus on than wearing a dumb hat!"

"My hat is _not_ dumb!" Tyson yelled, a frown appearing on his face as he put his head down. "At least…it _wasn't_."

Before Hilary could say anything, Tyson brushed past her and walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs so his wife would have no chance of catching up to him. Sighing, Hilary placed a palm against her forehead and shook her head, inwardly cursing herself.

"woof…woof…"

Hilary opened her eyes and looked over towards her dresser, where she found Tucker repeatedly walking into the side of the bureau.

"You've never helped before, so why would you start now?" Hilary muttered under her breath.

 **XXX**

Later that day, when it came time for dinner, Tyson never came into the kitchen to eat. Hilary was surprised _only_ because she knew how much Tyson loved food. Otherwise, she wasn't exactly shocked. She had never seen Tyson _that_ upset before, _especially_ not with her.

Hilary had been hoping, deep down, that Tyson would at least come downstairs once he smelt dinner, because she had a surprise for him. That didn't seem to be anywhere near happening, however. So, with a definitive huff (because Hilary, despite feeling bad, _was_ still a stubborn young woman who hated being in the wrong), she scooped up the bag that had been placed by the leg of her chair and stood up, making her way towards the staircase that would bring her upstairs.

She immediate headed for the bedroom, having a gut feeling that was where Tyson had hidden himself away to sulk. As soon as Hilary opened the door, she found her husband lying face first on the bed, the only visible movement of his body being the deep rise and fall of his back and shoulders every time he breathed.

"Tyson, aren't you hungry?" Hilary tried.

"No," Tyson muttered desolately.

"Well…that's a first," Hilary giggled softly. Tyson didn't respond. Sighing, Hilary walked over to the side of the bed and gently poked her husband's side, causing him to groan. "Tyson…come on. I don't like to see you moping around like this."

Tyson chose to ignore her. When she poked him again, he rolled over into the center of the bed. Rolling her eyes, Hilary sat down on the edge, where he had just been lying before dejectedly moving over.

"I'm really sorry about what I did to your hat," Hilary murmured, her eyes lowering to her hands. "I didn't realize just how much your hats mean to you. I might not necessarily _agree_ with it, but I can respect it. So…I'm really, really sorry."

Tyson finally turned his head to glance up at Hilary, although he still didn't look too impressed with her. Hilary had been expecting that, so she showed him a delicate smile and sat the bag she'd carried upstairs on her lap.

"I brought a little surprise for you," Hilary trilled. "Do you want to open it?"

"What, do you think you can just buy me off?" Tyson scoffed.

"No!" Hilary cried, sounding almost hurt by the accusation. "I just felt so bad about tossing the hat that I wanted to try and make it up to you!"

Tyson narrowed his eyes, still looking rather skeptical about the whole thing. Sighing dramatically, Hilary held the bag out towards her husband, allowing it to dangle right in his face.

"Why don't you just see what's inside and find out for yourself?" Hilary quipped.

Tyson blinked, his harsh look melting away as curiosity took over. With an uneasy hand, Tyson gently took the bag from his wife and sat up, digging into the inside and pulling out the object that had been stored within: a brand new, bright red hat with a stylized black B peeking out from the side.

"Whoa," Tyson breathed, shuffling the hat from hand-to-hand as he meticulously studied the headwear.

"It's red," Hilary awkwardly piped up, nervously rubbing her upper arm as Tyson glanced over at her. "Your favorite color."

"Is that why you picked it?" Tyson chuckled.

"I guess…" Hilary murmured. "All hats kind of look the same to me."

Tyson grinned and pulled the new cap on over his messy black hair, laughing again once it was on. "Well…you did a good job! This one is really nice."

Hilary grimaced slightly and turned her head to look at Tyson. "Are you humoring me?"

"Of course not," Tyson earnestly assured the brunette. "It really is a nice hat! In fact, I think I like this one better than the one you got rid of."

An embarrassed blush graced Hilary's face as those words left Tyson's mouth. "I'm still sorry…"

"No, _I'm_ the one who should be sorry," Tyson admitted, much to Hilary's surprise. "I shouldn't have thrown a fit over something as stupid as a hat. I don't want us to be upset with one another because of something dumb. I want us to be upset with each other for _smart_ reasons!"

Hilary couldn't help but to smile at that. "You're an idiot."

"You're right, I'd rather us not be mad at each other at all," Tyson snickered. "But you know what I mean."

"I do," Hilary hummed, slowly nodding her head. "So…are you hungry yet?"

"I've been starving ever since our argument," Tyson groaned, jumping off the bed and grinning at his amused wife. "Come on! Let's go eat!"

"Sounds good to me," Hilary giggled, getting to her own feet and walking towards the door. "And if you're a good boy and eat _all_ of your dinner, I'll have a _special_ dessert waiting for you!"

The flirtatious wink Hilary finished off her promise with caused Tyson's face to turn red and his heart to flutter eagerly in his chest.

"Okay, so being an adult is _kind of_ fun," Tyson whispered to himself before grinning deliriously once again and following after his gorgeous wife.


	16. Chapter 16: Tyson vs Hilary

"Oof. Man, I'm _exhausted_."

Tyson hadn't even been able to make it to the couch before passing out in front of the doorway. He lay sprawled out on the floor, on his stomach, with his arms and legs stretched out to the sides.

"Oh, good, you're home! What do you want for-Tyson, get off of the floor!"

The Beyblade Champion groaned and managed to turn his head, glancing up at an obviously irritated Hilary.

"Why?" Tyson moaned.

"Because you're lying _on the floor!_ " Hilary exclaimed, motioning towards her husband's limp body.

"So?"

"It's a safety hazard!"

"You saw me, you didn't trip," Tyson calmly sighed.

"But what if I hadn't?" Hilary rhetorically questioned. "I could've broken my neck!"

"Well, good thing you saw me," Tyson playfully quipped.

"I don't even understand why you do this _every single day_ ," Hilary droned as she rolled her eyes. "Your job's not that hard!"

 _This_ got Tyson up. He jumped to his feet and glared at Hilary, who cocked an eyebrow and stared right back at her incredulous husband.

"My job is _extremely_ hard!" Tyson argued.

"Oh, yeah, because managing you and Daichi _all day_ is _so_ bad," Hilary bit sarcastically. "That's what _I_ do, and you never see me passed out on the floor!"

"I do a hell of a lot more than just battle!" Tyson contended. "I have to train, and I always have _tons_ of paperwork to do, and media interviews…"

"Oh, wah wah, being a celebrity is _so_ hard," Hilary growled.

Tyson furrowed his brow and folded his arms across his broad chest, causing Hilary to sigh and bow his head.

"I bet you couldn't last _one day_ as the Champion," Tyson bargained.

Hilary smirked at this. The stubborn brunette _loved_ herself a good bet. Especially when it was one she knew she could win. "I bet I could."

"Okay, then let's find out," Tyson retaliated. "Tomorrow, you'll take off from the office and come to work train with me. You'll do _everything_ that I do, and by the end of the day, you'll be _even more_ burnt out than me."

"You sure are confident in yourself, aren't you?" Hilary murmured.

"I'm not any different than you are," Tyson remarked.

"Alright then," Hilary breathed, grinning at her confident husband. "I'll do it. And I'll _prove_ to you that your job isn't as tough as you think it is."

 **XXX**

The next morning, as Tyson was preparing his training duffel with energy drinks and snacks, Hilary appeared downstairs with a huge smile on her face. When Tyson looked over his shoulder and saw her, he raised an eyebrow and threw her a disbelieving look.

"What?" Hilary trilled.

"You can't go to work dressed like _that_ ," Tyson commented.

Hilary frowned and looked down at her outfit. She had dressed so nicely for the day, in a fitted white tank lined with black lace and a skin tight, mid-thigh length black skirt along with towering white heels.

"Why?" Hilary whined. "Do I look bad?"

"No, you look extremely sexy, as a matter of fact," Tyson complimented, causing his wife to smile. "But, if you think you can do what _I do_ in _those_ clothes, you're crazy."

"Seriously?" Hilary muttered miserably.

"Mmhm," Tyson hummed.

"Then what am I supposed to wear?" Hilary complained.

"Workout clothes," Tyson replied simply. "Unless, of course, you don't mind running in high heels and lifting in tight skirts."

"Lifting?" Hilary repeated, one eyebrow shooting up out of terrified interest.

"How long have you been working alongside me, Hil?" Tyson deadpanned, completely unaffected by Hilary's look of horror. "I've got to keep up with my muscles somehow!"

Biting her lip, Hilary grabbed the railing of the staircase and began to trudge back up the steps. "Come on, Hilary. You want to win…you _have_ to win…"

 **XXX**

 _Why does the road to winning have to suck so much?_

Hilary's eyes had widened as soon as Tyson had brought her to the weight room at the BBA Headquarters training facility. Of course, she exercised on her own. Hilary liked to swim and run. But this weight room was something else. All of the treadmills, stepping and cycling machines, and free weights…all reserved for the top trainers in the Beyblade world. It was easier back when she would yell at Tyson for not trying that hard on the treadmill.

And she was supposed to use each and every one of them.

"So…I can just go on one of the bikes, right?" Hilary asked hopefully, pointing towards one of the cycling machines.

"No, because _I'm_ not using the bikes," Tyson replied, pressing a hand against his chest. "I used them yesterday. Today is just using the weights."

"You expect _me_ to lift weights?" Hilary scoffed. "I've never lifted weights in my whole entire life!"

"Then I guess today will be a first for you," Tyson chuckled, causing Hilary to growl.

"And what would you like me to lift, Mr. Hot Shot?" Hilary huffed.

"Usually around a hundred, or 125," Tyson mused, walking over to one of the weight machines and changing around the weights.

"WHAT?!" Hilary shrieked. "But…that's as much as I weigh! _Err_ …maybe more."

"Well, I'm not going to make you lift _that_ much," Tyson laughed, ignoring Hilary's shifty eyes. "You'll lift something a lot lighter."

"Good," Hilary sighed.

"But that means you'll have to do more reps than me," Tyson continued, causing Hilary's eyes to widen.

"That's not fair!" Hilary cried.

"Yes it is!" Tyson argued. "I may do fewer reps, but I'll be lifting _a lot_ more than you. So, to make up for the weight you're not lifting, you'll just have to do it a few more times so we can still be even."

"I hate today already," Hilary muttered.

"What was that?" Tyson questioned in a sing-song voice.

"I'm ready to go!" Hilary warbled, her voice and smile shaking as she nervously approached the weight machine.

 **XXX**

After roughly an hour in the weight room, Hilary was ready to take a nap.

Unfortunately, as Tyson kept on reminding her, their day had just begun, and there was still lots to be done. The next bullet on his personal training list was to go outside and begin working out with his Beyblade. This, Hilary assumed, would be an easy task since she has seen him do that numerous times.

This, however, would be _nothing_ like Hilary was used to.

As soon as Tyson launched his blade towards an obstacle course and began instructing them it what to do. Hilary found all of this to be completely normal.

Until Tyson started running the course along _with_ the spinning top.

"Come on, Hilary!" Tyson called as he took a running leap over a collection of water.

"What? _I_ have to run the course, too?" Hilary groaned.

"Yeah!" Tyson chuckled. "If my blade's putting the work in, I do, too! Besides, you remember the bet! _You_ do everything that _I_ do!"

Hilary apprehensively bit her lip. She was still tired from their weight lifting session! Not wanting Tyson to win, however, she took after her husband and his wretched spinning blade for the day and began to compete in the course as well. She managed to trip over barriers, slide down the climbing wall, and fall off of the swinging ropes several times; resulting in quite a few sore spots that Hilary was sure would turn into bruises by the next morning.

After running the course for the fifth time, Hilary hobbled past the finish line and glared at her husband, who had finished his fifth turn about ten minutes prior.

"See? That wasn't so bad!" Tyson crowed.

"That's like the equivalent of saying being punched in the face by your Grandpa isn't so bad!" Hilary wailed, huffing and puffing as she bent over and held onto her knees. "Can we take a break yet?"

"Hilary, there's no breaks until lunchtime!" Tyson chuckled. "I would _never_ get any work done if there was."

"Well _I'm_ not going to be able to catch my breath until _I_ get one!" Hilary groaned.

Tyson smiled sympathetically at his wife, who was still bent over in pitiful shape. "Alright, babe. I can tell you're tired. So, I'll be nice and give you something lighter to do."

"Thank…you…" Hilary panted, too tired to even get sarcastic with the young man.

 **XXX**

"This is something _lighter?!_ "

Tyson had brought Hilary into his designated office inside of the training complex and sat her down behind his desk. While Hilary was making herself comfortable in the big leather chair, Tyson had dropped a giant stack of paperwork on the desk; one so high that Hilary couldn't be seen behind it in her sitting position.

"Yeah!" Tyson chirped. "This is the lightest load of paperwork I've had all week!"

"This is more paperwork than I get in a _whole month!_ " Hilary shrieked.

"A Champion has a lot of information the Tournament needs," Tyson elucidated. "They want to know about the condition of _all_ of my physique and my beyblade, I have to give the League constant updates on its equipments, if they've learned any new attacks, and any wrecks."

"Alright, alright, I get it!" Hilary interrupted, standing up to remove the top form in order to examine it. "So, when is all of this due? The end of the week."

"I wish!" Tyson laughed. "It's all due before the end of the day."

"WHAT?!" Hilary shouted, her eyes widening.

"You take the top half, and I'll take the bottom half," Tyson tried, ignoring Hilary's latest outburst. "If we do that, we should be all done with this paperwork by five o'clock!"

 **XXX**

By the time Tyson and Hilary finally arrived home from the training complex, Hilary was completely beat. As soon as Tyson opened the front door, Hilary moaned and collapsed on the floor, lying in the same exact position that Tyson had been the day before.

"See? Not so easy, is it?" Tyson quipped.

"No," Hilary muttered, her voice muffled because her face was buried in the carpet.

"You're never going to make fun of me for conking out after work again, are you?" Tyson continued.

"No."

"It isn't fun losing a bet to me, is it?" Tyson tried not to laugh.

"No!"

Tyson grinned to himself and glanced over at the kitchen, walking towards it to find something to eat. Not before turning around and quipping at his wife .

"Oh, and Hilary?" Tyson trilled.

"What?"

"You shouldn't lie on the floor," Tyson smartly informed his wife. "It's a safety hazard. Someone might trip!"

Hilary finally picked her face up and gave Tyson the harshest glare she could possibly deliver. "I'll trip _you_ if you don't shut your trap!"


	17. Chapter 17: Jealousy

**:D I'm really excited for you guys to read it, because I've had this idea for a while and I'm really glad I got to finally write it and share it with all of you! This is a fun one :P**

* * *

Tyson was a rather selfish man.

Not in the common sense, of course. He was anything but, in fact. He was one of the kindest, gentlest, sweetest people in the world. Tyson would do anything for his friends and strangers alike. He always stopped for autographs and pictures, and never failed to provide a star struck young trainer with helpful advice.

No. Tyson was selfish when it came to _Hilary_.

The love of his life.

She was a pretty young woman; beautiful, in fact. She had been cute as a child. Once Hilary had hit her teens, however, she began to rival the other girls' looks. Now, as a young adult, Hilary was arguably _even more beautiful_ than them. The color of her hair was so rich and warm, and the color of her eyes was so deep and cool. Her skin was milky, her lips rosy, and her teeth glistening white. She was tall, with long legs and a slender body with delicate curves of muscle that obviously declared her as an athlete.

In short, Hilary was stunning, and Tyson couldn't help but to feel that every other male in the world had their eyes set on her.

It _disgusted_ him. The very idea of these men having thoughts and ideas about his pretty girl. Dirty, vile thoughts that only Tyson himself should have been allowed to think. After all, he was the only one allowed to look at Hilary like that. The only one allowed to _touch her_ like that.

If he could have washed out all of their brains with soap, he would have.

Unfortunately, that wasn't possible. It also wouldn't actually do any good, although Tyson simply chose to believe that it could. So, instead, he had to settle for being very protective of his fiancée.

A level of protectiveness that Hilary could only describe as _jealousy_.

It didn't matter who the particular guy was. Tyson was wary of any and all males who came to close to her. He was especially distrustful of the ones Hilary worked closest with: other members of the Beyblade League. Functions for the BBA, as a result, tended to be very troubling for Tyson, and very uncomfortable for Hilary.

The current function they were at was a charity dinner being hosted by the League themselves. Almost as soon as they'd walked in, Tyson had ditched Hilary for the appetizer table, leaving the pretty brunette to socialize for the _both_ of them.

While Tyson was busy stuffing his face with crab cakes and shrimp, Hilary had met up with Mason, one of the beybladers from France. She always enjoyed talking to him, because he would tickle her funny bones with his humor. He wasn't too bad on the eyes, either.

Tyson, despite being preoccupied with downing half of the appetizer table, still managed to catch Hilary and Mason from out of the corner of his eye. This little sight nearly caused Tyson to choke on his mouthful of food. Tyson couldn't help but to view Mason as one of his biggest threats when it came to Hilary. After all, the man was French. He was also tall and handsome, and tan…with lots of muscles. Usually, the guy didn't walk around with a shirt on, which was just an added bonus for Tyson's paranoia. Fortunately, the charity dinner was a _formal_ event that required _formal_ attire, which meant that Mason had to be fully clothed.

That didn't make Tyson feel any better, however.

After all, the dinner being a formal affair meant that Hilary was _also_ dressed to the nines. Her strapless, mermaid dress was skintight, aqua in color and adorned by silver beading and sequins until it scalloped off over the tulle skirt. Even from the back, Tyson could tell that Hilary was softly scuffing the floor with her silver heels and delicately tucking loose curls of locks behind her ears as she giggled at whatever Mason was saying.

It was sending his overzealous tendencies into overdrive.

So, swallowing his fifteenth crab cake of the evening, Tyson turned on a heel and began to march towards the two chatty people, his eyes narrowed in determination. As soon as he was next to Hilary, Tyson slung his arm around his fiancée's shoulders and pulled her roughly against his side, causing the beautiful young woman to audibly growl.

"Moussier Tyson, there you are!" Mason chuckled, his pearly whites visible as he laughed. "Je was beginning to think Hilary had left you at home!"

"Oh, she wishes," Tyson murmured, Hilary rolling her eyes as the words left his mouth. "So, what are we talking about over here?"

"Just the upcoming wedding!" Mason crowed. His hand, which was currently holding a half full wine glass, motioned towards Hilary's own left hand, which she had resting on the right side of her hip. "That's quite the rock you gave her!"

"Well, I only give Hilary the best," Tyson drawled as the brunette's eyes widened in horror. "And that ring certainly was the best!"

"I'd say so," Mason murmured with a small chuckle before downing some more of his cabernet. "So, how is engaged life treating you two? The wedding planning and all of that?"

Hilary opened her mouth to respond, but Tyson was quick to cut her off, much to the woman's annoyance.

"It's great!" Tyson chirped. "It's really, really exciting, actually. Knowing that Hilary is _all mine_ , and we get to spend the _rest of our lives together_ , is so awesome! We get to be all loyal, and loving, and we get to protect each other, too!"

"That's really sweet, Tyson," Mason earnestly replied. "You should include that in your wedding speech!"

Tyson just grinned back foolishly at the male and swiftly moved his arm down Hilary's back, grabbing a handful of her ass. Hilary actually _jumped_ at the action, not having expected it in the slightest. Soon enough, her entire face turned as red as her lips, and she quickly grabbed onto the man's arm and began to yank him away from Mason, making sure to throw an apologetic smile at the confused Frenchman before pulling Tyson away to the other side of the room.

"What's up, Hilary?" Tyson asked almost stupidly.

"Oh, don't play dumb with me!" Hilary scolded, digging her nails into Tyson's tuxedo jacket and causing him to wince. "You know _exactly_ what's up!"

"What?" Tyson whined. "That I grabbed you? Is that it?"

"You did that on purpose!" Hilary hissed.

"Well, of course I did!" Tyson whirred. "My hand didn't just grab your butt on accident!"

"You made it obvious!" Hilary growled, not liking that Tyson was skipping around the facts. "You made _sure_ that Mason saw! That wasn't a flirty little squeeze, Tyson. That was a 'this is my property' snatch! And I don't appreciate it!"

"You're just being delusional," Tyson scoffed, although his own cheeks were now turning red and betraying him. "I didn't make a show out of it!"

"Yes, you did," Hilary continued to push the fact. "You _always_ do! Why do you have to be so _jealous_ , huh?"

"I'm not jealous!" Tyson cried, his eyes widening at the suggestion.

"Now you think _I'm_ the dumb one," Hilary huffed. "Anyone could tell that you're jealous! I can tell just by looking in your eyes!"

"How can you do that?" Tyson demanded to know, although part of his tone actually sounded curious.

"Because I know you very well," Hilary murmured. "And when you get all jealous, your eyes kind of light up. But not in that cute way like when you're _really_ happy. They light up almost like fire because you're _so_ pissed off. And that's _exactly_ what I saw in your eyes before you grabbed my ass!"

"That…that doesn't prove anything…" Tyson muttered, his voice losing the edge it had possessed before.

"Tyson, there's no reason to get so worked up, okay?" Hilary sighed, grabbing onto her fiancé's shoulder instead of his arm, and not using her nails this time around. "You know how much I love you! I would never, _ever_ do anything to upset you. Just because I'm talking to other guys doesn't mean I feel the same way about them that I feel about you. I never have, and I never will. You mean everything to me, Tyson."

The young man smiled and wrapped his arms around Hilary, hugging her tightly as she rested her head atop his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Hilary," Tyson whispered, pressing a hand against her back. "I trust you. I really do. I'll try to keep my jealousy under control from now on. I promise."

"That's all I could ask," Hilary murmured, pulling away before gently pressing her lips against Tyson's. "Oh, and Tyson?"

Tyson was still smiling sweetly at his fiancée. "Yeah, Hil?"

Hilary's face turned to a more serious disposition, with her brow slightly furrowed and her lips pressed tightly together. "Don't you _ever_ grab my ass in front of anybody _ever again_!"


	18. Chapter 18: Basic Needs

When it comes to the basic needs in life, there are three bullets on the traditional list: food, clothing, and shelter.

Hilary, while she might not have had the happiest childhood, at least had all of those things. It was enough to survive, and keep her safe, and content enough. Even as a child, however, Hilary believed that happiness was just as important as those three things. Feeling loved and wanted were important.

And, at home, she never felt that.

Deep down inside, she knew everybody. And to perhaps search for those missing needs that she so desired.

Eventually, she made friends. Quite a few friends, in fact. Kenny, Rei, Max, Kai, Kane, Selima, Emily, Mariah…Tyson.

 _Tyson_. No one made her blood boil quite like Tyson. That stupid boy with the pitch blue hair and the chocolate brown eyes. The stupid boy with the warm, tan skin. The stupid boy with the stupid top toy and the unbeatable determination.

Hilary had never cared so much about someone she thought she could never possibly get along with.

When she was with Tyson, she felt something she never felt with her friends back in school. Not the aggravation, of course. Hilary couldn't seem to escape _that_ no matter where she went. What she felt travelling with Tyson, and not living at home, was that she was wanted, and appreciated. Even when she and Tyson were bickering and trying to go at one another's throats, they still cared about one another. Hilary could tell. Because she could feel it.

When they traveled or she accompanied him to train in the forests, food and shelter could sometimes be hard to come across. Especially when Tyson and his lack of directional sense got them lost in a forest or the middle of nowhere. Oddly enough, however, Hilary was happier foraging for food with the young male but for some reason he would lie that he loved her cooking. She could see him lying through his teeth. And she was happier sleeping on the cold, hard dirt ground than in her own bed. She also didn't have as many clothes on the road. Hilary, like her friends, would just wear the same clothes every day, and wash them when they got dirty. But that was _still_ better than wearing the girly designer clothes her parents bought for her!

Her friendship with Tyson was the most important thing in the world to her. Hilary, of course, felt a little more strongly than that about him. She didn't know if Tyson felt the same way…he was a bit slow. He never talked about romance or love. In fact, he _barely_ seemed to know what those things were. Unless it was about Beyblade or food, Tyson was pretty clueless. But he was sweet, kind, and caring. Which was why Hilary had feelings for him in the first place. He may have been dense, but at least he had a heart of gold. He really did try his best, even when he didn't completely understand what was going on. She _craved_ his attention, even more than food or shelter or clothing.

Even if Tyson didn't know what he was doing when he stayed up late to talk to her, or offhandedly complimented her on how good her hair looked when it was down, or playfully chased after her during training breaks, all of those things helped Hilary to feel loved. To feel wanted. It was such an unusual feeling, something she had always longed for.

And now that she had it, Hilary never wanted to let it go.

Hilary had figured that maybe those basic needs, if you had the right amount of love, only needed to be doled out in the bare minimum. She didn't need home cooked meals, a big fancy house, or designer clothes to be happy.

As long as she was with Tyson, Hilary felt that her needs were met.


	19. Chapter 19: Umbrella

It had started off as such a lovely day.

The sun had been shining with not a single cloud in the sky. The air was warm, a gentle breeze blowing through every few minutes. It was calm and quiet, and everything seemed to be at peace. Wanting to take advantage of such a beautiful day, Hilary had managed to convince Tyson to have a picnic with her at the park. He had been a little reluctant at first, but then decided that spending time with Hilary _and_ eating simultaneously couldn't have been all that bad. So, he agreed to the trip, and he was glad he had. It turned out to be a great afternoon, and both he and Hilary had a great time chatting and enjoying one another's company.

That was, until the rain came.

It was all very sudden. The clouds rolled in, blocking out the sun, and the winds grew a little harsher. Before Tyson or Hilary could even bat an eyelash, drops of water began to fall from the sky, dampening their bodies and the lovely picnic that Hilary had worked so hard to prepare.

"Ugh, stupid rain!" Hilary hissed.

"It's okay, Hil," Tyson comforted his frustrated girlfriend. "We had a really nice time, right? We can just do it again another time!"

"I guess you're right…" Hilary sighed.

"Here, I'll help you clean everything up," Tyson assured, stuffing all of the leftover food back into the basket before Hilary could even attempt to do so.

"Oh, Tyson, you're so sweet," Hilary murmured, a delicate blush overtaking her face.

"Don't mention it!" Tyson chuckled.

As he folded up the blanket they had been sitting on, Hilary reached into the basket and pulled out a large, blue and white umbrella, which she hastily opened up and held over her head.

"Ah, much better," Hilary hummed happily. "Now my hair won't get ruined!"

"You care about that kind of stuff?" Tyson scoffed.

"No…not really," Hilary admitted. "Only when I'm with you, I guess."

"Well, you don't have to do that," Tyson declared. "I don't care how your hair looks. I always think you're beautiful, no matter what!"

"When did you get so sweet?" Hilary sighed, shaking her head as she tried to rid the blush on her cheeks.

"I've always been this sweet," Tyson quipped, getting back to his feet and holding the now closed picnic basket in his hand by the handle. "It just took you a little while to notice."

"Ha ha, very funny," Hilary teased. "Now, come on."

"Come on where?" Tyson questioned. "Home?"

"Well, yeah, your house," Hilary huffed. "But…I mostly meant underneath my umbrella."

"You brought an umbrella?" Tyson squeaked, staring up at the blue and white covering. "Did you know it was going to rain?"

"No, I just always come prepared," Hilary giggled. "See? It paid off! Now, get under here before you get soaked."

"I don't need to stand under a stupid umbrella," Tyson refuted. "I've got my hat!"

"Your hat?" Hilary repeated dully.

"Yeah!" Tyson chirped. "It'll keep me dry!"

"What? No it won't!" Hilary exclaimed. "You're going to get absolutely drenched! Get under the umbrella!"

"Hilary, I don't _need_ your umbrella," Tyson groaned. "Umbrellas are for the weak!"

Hilary shot her boyfriend an unappreciative look, to which he blushed and chuckled nervously. "Look, Mr. Hot Shot, I don't need you getting sick, alright? I'm in no mood to rub Vaporub on your chest!"

"I've run through the rain my _entire life_ without an umbrella," Tyson countered, jogging ahead of Hilary. "I'll be fine!"

"Can't you at least walk?" Hilary grumbled. "You catching a cold is bad enough, but slipping on a patch of wet grass and breaking your neck is even worse."

Tyson rolled his eyes, but nevertheless, he skidded to a halt and allowed Hilary to catch up to him before continuing with a slower pace. Shifting her eyes to the side, Hilary sneakily tried to cover Tyson's head with her umbrella, but he was keen to her antics and was having no part of them.

"Nice try, Hil," Tyson snickered as he side stepped out of the umbrella's coverage. "But I'm not going to walk under that umbrella!"

"You think you're real macho, don't you?" Hilary exhaled.

"That's not what this is about!" Tyson argued.

"Oh?" Hilary trilled. "So what's it about then?"

"Pride."

"Right. Your macho pride."

"Uh…no?"

"Tyson, come on," Hilary hummed. "I've known you long enough to know what your true intentions are. You just want to look tough in front of me. You want to be the _man_. That's it."

"Nuh uh!" Tyson argued, his whole face going red.

"Chill out!" Hilary giggled. "No reason to get so worked up."

"I wasn't getting worked up!" Tyson cried, his blush only intensifying as he wailed.

"Whatever you say, Tyson," Hilary warbled, her eyes glinting with mischievousness.

Tyson huffed and shook his head, feeling the drops of water fly off of his hair and skin. Hilary noticed this right away, but chose not to say anything for fear of another crazy outburst from her flustered boyfriend.

The rainfall only continued to grow harsher and harsher as the couple made their way back towards Tyson's house. Hilary, of course, was safe beneath her umbrella. She was as dry as could be. Tyson, on the other hand, was not as lucky. By the time they actually reached the house and got inside, in fact, Tyson looked like he had just jumped into a pool fully clothed. His shirt and pants were drenched and sticking to his skin, while his hair was soaked and completely matted down. His hat was also saturated with rain water, and it looked as though it had melded onto the top of his head.

"Gross…" Tyson whined, plucking at his wet sleeve.

"I _told_ you to get under the umbrella," Hilary sighed knowingly. "But you didn't want to listen."

"Hey, I may be a little wet, but I survived," Tyson scoffed. "It'll be fine. Trust me."

"YO HOMIE! WHY IN THE BLUE WORLD YA SO WET? DON'T YA EVEN THINK ABOUT STAININ' THE CARPET!"

Tyson gulped and hesitantly looked up the stairs, where his grandpa was standing with a cold stare and gritting teeth, the wooden sword ready in his feeble hands.

"Oh yeah," Hilary trilled sarcastically, though a smile had grown on her face. "It'll be _just_ fine."


	20. Chapter 20: Xerox

Hilary hated paperwork.

She never thought that being a manager was going to be all fun and games. She knew it was work. Beyblading needed to be fixed and cared for, and the team needed to be up kept. All of that had been obvious to Hilary. She'd seen Kenny and Hiro do it all the time, and had even helped them out with the work.

What they had kept hidden from her, however, was the copious amounts of _paperwork_ that came with being a manager.

That's what annoyed Hilary the most. She didn't mind tending to her husband's Beyblade or even others. All of that made sense to her. But paperwork? Not so much. She felt like a kid at school. And, from what she had heard, school was boring and, in hindsight, a waste of time.

It made a lot of sense. So was the paperwork.

But the League always wanted it. They always sent it and wanted it back promptly. It was pretty dumb things. Stuff like the status of Tyson's beyblade and its current development, the bitbeast, any new upgrades, how many times he had won and lost in a month, how many Tournaments he still had on schedule, which was stressful, but _much_ less annoying than filling out paperwork that didn't seem to serve any purpose other than to drive Hilary insane.

Every time the stacks of paper came in the mail, Hilary had to fill out every single sheet, then organize them, and then send them back to the League in a brand new envelope. Sometimes, and these were the worst times, Hilary would have to bring them directly to League Headquarters at the BBA. Hand delivering the paperwork actually might have been even worse than doing it in the first place.

In every single case, Hilary would have to photo copy the papers before sending them out or delivering them. She needed the information on hand for her records. They were very imperative. And, aside from that, it was good for Hilary to have them around. She kept all of her filled out papers in a file cabinet, and was able to pull them out whenever she needed to look something up.

Fortunately, she had _actually_ been smart enough to make this job a lot easier. While she was still in charge of the team, she easily manipulated her husband to a copy machine and put it in the lobby, behind the desk. And she actually appreciated him for it. Because it was a lot easier to copy the papers in the same room instead of having to go forty storeys on the ground floor of the building to do it. Especially when you were newly married and had apparently tied the knot with a child who didn't know how to do anything for himself including cooking, cleaning, and shopping of all varieties.

That's why Hilary had been so aggravated with the League's most recently mailed out paperwork. It had come with a label stuck to the front of the envelope marked "Urgent!" Hilary, of course, knew that this meant the paperwork had to be expedited. Not only that, but as soon as she actually opened the envelope up, she discovered a note inside from the offices, requesting that the paperwork be hand delivered by the next afternoon.

That was a disgustingly fast turnaround, even for Hilary's expectations.

She hated to leave Tyson alone. Not only because she seemed to have formed some sort of separation anxiety from him (as pathetic as _that_ sounded) but because he was so…well, inept. The poor guy could barely function on his own. Hilary was afraid that if she left him alone for the afternoon, he would starve to death. Or destroy the house. Tyson got stir crazy very easily. And when that happened, he got pretty wild.

But, she had no choice. As a team member, that was her job. It was terribly stupid and seemed really unnecessary, but the BBA was the _one_ group of people who Hilary couldn't get into an argument with.

Which was really too bad, because she had a lot of bones to pick with them.

So, sucking it up like any wife should, Hilary quickly filled out the paperwork (or as quickly as one _could_ fill out a stack so expansive) and copied the sheets, grabbing one of the piles and leaving it haphazardly on her desk before setting out.

 **XXX**

By the time she finally got there, Hilary was fully annoyed. She just wanted them to take the paperwork out of her hands so she'd never have to look at that particular stack ever again.

Well…except for the copied pile that was now sitting on her desk.

Letting out a frustrated huff as she sat in the lobby, waiting for someone to call her in and take the papers, Hilary opened up the large yellow envelope and pulled out the sheets, deciding to look them over one more time before handing the work into the League.

And thank goodness she had.

For what she found when she pulled out the paperwork was not the many forms she had spent hours upon hours filling out, but rather black and white photo copies of _her husband's face_.

Groaning, Hilary squeezed her eyes shut and smacked herself in the face with the unflattering images of Tyson. She should have known. This wasn't the first time. Tyson must have gone stir crazy while she was battling frustration the day before and played around with the copy machine. Scanning his face and…as Hilary flipped through the sheets and then properly confirmed…Dragoon's as well.

Unfortunately for her, before she could even _attempt_ to make a run for it with the false copies, Hilary was called in by the head of the BBA himself: Mr. Dickenson.

"Sir…" Hilary choked out as she followed the old man back to his office, "I _really_ can't give you these forms now…there's…uh…been a slight error with them, I noticed. I have to go back and fix it right away!"

"Oh, now Hilary, don't be so hard on yourself!" Dickenson laughed. "I know how seriously you take your work, but there's no need to get all worked up over it."

 _If only you knew how little I cared about this damn paperwork,_ Hilary bit in her head.

"No, I really do mean it," Hilary uttered instead, keeping her sarcastic thoughts to herself. "There's a serious problem with this paperwork. Not slight or small. _Serious._ "

"I'm sure whatever it is can be quickly and properly fixed by our staff," Dickenson assured the obviously flustered Hilary. "Now, I'll just take the forms from you…"

Hilary grimaced and, knowing she couldn't continue to argue with the man, forfeited the sheets. He grinned appreciatively at her and took the paperwork, flipping through the pieces of paper. Hilary just watched as his face began to fall, going from jovial to downright bewildered.

"Oh…" Dickenson murmured, holding up one of the pictures of Tyson that showed the young man pressing his right cheek against the screen of the scanner while sticking his tongue out of his mouth and holding his eyebrows up as high as they would go. "Oh dear."

Hilary sighed and shook her head, knowing full well she had tried to warn Dickenson in advance. "Hey, he may be my husband, but he's _your_ Beyblade Champion."


	21. Chapter 21: Winter is full of Fun

As the tiny white flakes began to fall from the sky and land on the ground, Hilary narrowed her eyes and let out a quiet, though obviously aggravated, huff.

The young woman absolutely _hated_ this season. It was cold and dreary and mournful. Hilary hated having to bundle herself up in sweaters and jackets. She could never understand how other girls fussed over the cold weather and so joyfully celebrated the death of summer. Pumpkin flavored coffees and cute boots meant nothing to Hilary if she couldn't run around outside in the sunshine.

She allowed her jewel toned eyes to wander up towards the sky, which was a smoky gray color. Hilary stuck her tongue out in disgust and finally stepped away from the window, no longer being able to stand looking out into the nearly depressing outdoors.

"Hil! Hil! It's snowing outside!"

At this, Hilary groaned and rolled her eyes. Tyson was bounding down the stairs, his feet pounding each and every step they landed on. Unlike her, Tyson loved each and every season and never had a complaint. About anything, actually. Unless he was hungry. Then the young man complained an awful lot.

"I know, I see it," Hilary grumbled.

"Aw, you're not excited?" Tyson murmured.

"You know that I hate the winter," Hilary sighed. "It's cold and dreary and…ugh. The snow goes _everywhere!_ "

"Hey, you don't have to shovel it," Tyson reasoned. "I do!"

"You know that I feel about that," Hilary breathed.

"No," Tyson replied honestly. "How?"

Hilary bit her lip and glared at Tyson, resisting the urge to smack the handsome boy upside the head. "I _always_ end up feeling bad and helping you out anyway! Even though I hate, hate, _hate_ the stupid snow."

"Aw, but Hilary, the snow is so much fun!" Tyson pushed. "It's cold and mushy and awesome! I've always loved the snow."

"Well, there's something you and I don't have in common," Hilary huffed, brushing past Tyson and marching into the kitchen. The bluish raven haired boy raised an eyebrow and quickly followed after his girlfriend, not wanting to let her out of his sight for too long. Because when did _that,_ that's when the trouble always started.

"But…we have _so much_ in common!" Tyson cried. "How can we only have one thing not in common?"

"Because we're regular human beings," Hilary lamely replied. "We're gonna have some differences, you know. The fact that I hate winter and you don't just so happens to be one of those things. It's not a big deal."

To Tyson, however, it was. Everyone always told him that opposites attracted, and that's why he and Hilary were so good together. To be honest, however, he didn't see many differences between the two of them. He thought they were more alike than anything. Both were kind and caring, though stubborn and a little hard headed. Hilary had more a hot streak than Tyson, but that didn't mean much to him. He didn't really think that made them complete opposites. They were more alike than they were different.

Besides, Tyson didn't like it when Hilary was all sad and disappointed anyway. And it was obvious the snow didn't make her happy. Or winter in general. And Tyson, being the sweet boyfriend that he was, didn't want to see his beloved girlfriend in such a sad state for an entire season.

He also knew his sanity couldn't handle it.

"Come on," Tyson urged, running up to Hilary and grabbing the bewildered young woman's hand.

"Come on where?" Hilary murmured.

"Outside," Tyson replied easily. "We're going to play in the snow."

"No!" Hilary refuted, tearing her hand away from Tyson's.

"It'll be fun!" Tyson tried.

"No it won't!" Hilary argued. "It's cold and wet and gross! Plus, I'm not some five year old little kid! What do you expect me to do? Build a snowman?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Hey, snowmen are a kind, caring people who have never done anything to hurt anyone," Tyson huffed playfully. Hilary's mouth betrayed her and bent into a smile, which she quickly tried (and failed) to cover with her hand. "Got you!"

"No you didn't," Hilary grumbled, finally forcing her mouth back into a frown. "I'm not going to play in the lousy snow."

"Yes you are."

"Nope."

"I'm going to get your jacket," Tyson announced in a sing song voice, striding towards the coat rack by the front door.

"You can get whatever you want to get," Hilary called. "I'm still not going outside."

Tyson soon enough returned with Hilary's red jacket, but the she still wasn't ready to budge. Even when Tyson threw the coat at her, she didn't move. She just let the garment hit her before falling listlessly to the floor.

"I thought you said you weren't a little kid," Tyson mused.

"I'm not."

"Then why are you standing there pouting?"

Hilary scowled and bit her lip. She absolutely _hated it_ when Tyson got the upper hand on her. Wasn't the boy supposed to be dense? He barely knew how to cut his food, but when he wanted to get under Hilary's skin, he suddenly became a total smartass. It was such an enigma that not even _Hilary_ could begin to figure it out.

"I got you, didn't I?" Tyson asked, sounding rather pleased with himself.

"I refuse to respond to that."

"I'm not going to leave you alone until you put on your jacket and you come outside with me," Tyson warned.

At this, Hilary looked over her shoulder and glared at her boyfriend. "Who's acting like a little kid now?"

"I don't deny it, unlike _some_ people in this house."

Growling, Hilary finally bent down and picked up her coat, throwing it on over her cream colored sweater. She zipped up the form fitted outer garment and stormed towards the front door, intentionally pushing Tyson out of the way. He was in the middle of putting on his own black coat, but fortunately for him, he was a solid young man who couldn't be toppled over, even by Hilary's surprising amount of strength.

Once his coat was fully on, Tyson marched towards the front door and pulled it open, acting like a gentleman as he bowed and allowed Hilary to exit first.

"I'm not thanking you, either," Hilary announced, stomping right outside.

"I wasn't really expecting you to," Tyson quipped with a small chuckle.

As he closed the door behind him, Hilary stood in the middle of the front lawn and stared up at the sky, which was still dark and dreary. The tiny snowflakes, which had been falling for several hours now, were finally beginning to increase in size and severity. The little flurries were quickly picking up, and it wasn't long before Hilary could no longer see the sky at all. Just a solid stretch of pure white haze.

"Isn't it pretty?"

Hilary winced and looked over her shoulder, where she found Tyson staring up at the sky himself.

"I mean, I usually hesitate to use the word 'pretty,'" Tyson continued, his brow furrowing in contemplation. "But still."

"You never hesitate to use that word on me," Hilary purred, watching on in amusement as Tyson's cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink.

"I'm a man of few words, not a liar."

"Okay, well that entire statement is a lie, because you're certainly not a 'man of few words,'" Hilary quipped.

Tyson rolled his eyes, but smirked as he did so to show Hilary he was just being playful. "Look, the ground is really starting to get covered!"

Hilary looked down by her feet, which were covered by a pair of black leather boots, and found that the frosty white was, in fact, building. If anything, this only gave her a larger sense of disgust.

"There's not even enough here to _attempt_ to make a snowman," Hilary muttered. "Honestly, Tyson, this is _so_ stupid. Why did you make me come out here?"

Before Hilary knew it, she was being tackled into the thin layer of snow, and as soon as she managed to look up, she found herself face to face with a grinning Tyson.

"What's the big idea?!" Hilary demanded, trying to push the teen off of her.

"Are we having fun yet?" Tyson chuckled.

"NO!" Hilary shouted, smacking Tyson's shoulder repeatedly. "Get off of me!"

"Come on!" Tyson laughed, rolling over onto his own back so Hilary was now lying on top of him. She was officially red in the face, and he wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or anger. "You're just _trying_ not to have fun!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Hilary muttered, punching Tyson's shoulder again before getting to her feet. Once she was up, she began to dust the snow off of her jacket and pants with fervent effort.

And that's when she got hit in the back of the head with a very crude snowball.

Narrowing her eyes, Hilary looked slowly over her shoulder and snarled at Tyson, who was smiling cheekily at her.

"Are we having fun now?" Tyson quipped.

"I don't know," Hilary warbled, quickly reaching down and scooping up her own lame snowball, "you tell me!"

She hocked it at Tyson's face, and it made direct contact, earning a delighted giggle from the teenage girl who had thrown it. Quickly wiping the frost off of his face, Tyson playfully glowered at his girlfriend, who suddenly looked a little humbled.

"Oh, you're going to pay for that," Tyson threatened, bending down to gather more snow.

"Not if I get you first!" Hilary bit back, bending down shortly after to collect her own snow.

She may not have realized it, at least not at the moment, but Hilary was having a lot of fun playing outside in the snow with Tyson. Everything with him seemed to be fun.

Even if it involved the cold, dreary winter.


	22. Chapter 22- Soft Side

"Ugh…so tired…"

Hilary moaned and groaned to herself as she tossed her duffel bag against one of the couches in the living room of Tyson's house. She had just finished up her day working at the office, and had come over to visit, just as Grandpa had always encouraged her to. Hilary usually felt like she was imposing, but at the moment she was very tired and hungry, and Hilary knew that if she went to her own home, her parents would just bug her and then present her with some kind of healthy meal, something she would lightly resent nowadays.

Needless to say, she wasn't in the mood for that today.

Striding into the kitchen, Hilary found a note stuck on the refrigerator that was addressed to her. It was written in a funny, inexperienced script, obviously by Grandpa's hand. Smirking to herself, Hilary pulled off the yellow sheet of paper and scanned her emerald eyes over the writing.

 _Hiho, Hilary!_

 _Dis old man so excited you decided to loose around! I'll be out at the market by the time you arrive, and Tyson's out for a run, which is probably why you haven't heard anything crashing or explode within the first five minutes of arriving. If the brat turns up harassing ma' home girl, ya know wher the sword is!_

 _Cookies on the table!_

 _Adios, Gramps_

"Aw, he's so sweet!" Hilary giggled to herself. Carrying the note in her hand, Hilary walked over to the counter, her hopes soaring for the sweet treats that Grandpa had left her. Once she got there, however, all Hilary was met with was an empty plate, sprinkled with nothing more than crumbs. "Hey!"

As soon as she let out that dramatic, gasping cry, the front door swung open, Tyson charging right in.

"Hey there, Hil!" Tyson greeted cheerfully, sounding only slightly breathless. "You finally came!"

"Wh-where are my cookies?" Hilary whined.

"Your cookies?" Tyson reiterated.

"Grandpa made me cookies, but they're all gone!" Hilary complained. "I didn't even get to have _one!_ "

"Oh, those were just for you?" Tyson murmured.

Hilary narrowed her eyes at the teenaged boy, who suddenly looked rather sheepish…if not embarrassed. "Tyson…"

"Heh…I didn't realize that…I kind of thought he kinda left them there for anyone…namely me," Tyson admitted.

"So you ate them _all?!_ " Hilary snapped.

"I was hungry!" Tyson cried.

"You're _such_ a pig!" Hilary stormed. "I mean, really, who even eats _that_ many cookies at one time?"

"Me!" Tyson argued. "For your information, I'm a growing boy! I need all of the food I can get! That's what Hiro says, anyway."

"When Grandpa finds out you ate all of the cookies, you might not be growing for much longer," Hilary quipped. "Hell, _I_ might not let you grow for much longer after this stunt!"

At this, Tyson pouted and cocked his head to the side. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're going to pay for eating my cookies," Hilary sneered, her onyx eyes glinting with anger. "Just you wait and see."

"Oh, I'm _so_ afraid," Tyson drawled sarcastically, earning a growl from his…half-girlfriend. Tyson wasn't exactly sure where he and Hilary stood at the moment. It was complicated, he'd say.

"You should be," Hilary bit, marching straight out of the room and roughly brushing up against Tyson as she did so. Tyson looked over his shoulder and watched her go, his brow furrowing in bewilderment.

"She's such a drama queen."

 **XXX**

After showering and changing his clothes, Tyson peered out of the bathroom and looked around cautiously before taking another step. He may have considered Hilary a bit of a drama queen, but that didn't mean he wasn't a little bit afraid of her. After all, she could get pretty scary when she was mad. And she had _definitely_ been mad about the cookies.

Fortunately, his room seemed to be pretty untouched. Nothing misplaced and no hanging wires or potential death scenarios. Smiling, Tyson walked out of his room and down the stairs, to where Hilary was reclining on the couch in the living room reading a magazine.

"I should be afraid, huh?" Tyson remarked teasingly. "Yeah, you _really_ got me, Hil."

The brunette simply continued scanning the magazine with her eyes, paying Tyson no mind. The navy blue haired beyblader was unaffected by her silence and plopped himself down on the couch next to her, folding his arms behind his head.

"Ah, you've got to step up your game!" Tyson complained. "You're getting all soft on me."

Hilary just continued reading, not even making a sound in response. Tyson sulked slightly and looked down at her lap, where Tucker was curled up into a ball, half-asleep. That meant the little puppy wasn't even going to _attempt_ to help his master.

"Come on, Hil," Tyson prodded, his tone pleading. "I was just joking! You still scare me, ya know."

The brunette did nothing. No hum, no murmur, no nothing. Tyson, in turn, narrowed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. He looked quite a bit like a miserable young child, but Hilary obviously didn't care.

"Hilary, please talk to me!" Tyson finally blurted, leaning over and practically settling himself in Hilary's lap, disturbing the little canine who was already nestled there. "I don't like it when you ignore me! I feel like I'm invisible!"

At this, Hilary smirked and finally allowed her eyes to fall down towards Tyson, who was pouting like a baby dog himself and desperately gripping onto her legs. "You learned your lesson now, didn't you?"

"Huh?" Tyson murmured.

"I told you that you were going to pay for eating all of my cookies," Hilary hummed. "And you did."

"But…but…"

"Sometimes I don't have to get _physical_ revenge, you know," Hilary remarked. "In fact, you seem to crack _a lot_ quicker when the revenge is mental."

"Well, I can get over a little bruise or something," Tyson muttered sheepishly. "My feelings aren't so easy to fix."

"Aw, that's so cute! And sad!" Hilary crooned, causing Tyson to blush. "I love your gentle side."

"I don't have a gentle side!" Tyson protested.

"Oh, shush, yes you do," Hilary softly scolded.

"Nuh uh!"

"There's no shame in admitting you have feelings, Tyson," Hilary continued. "Besides, I already know how you operate."

"Wait…what?" Tyson muttered.

"I knew that ignoring you would be a lot more effective than hurting you physically," Hilary explained.

"Oh…" Tyson breathed, turning his head and staying silent for a few moments before adding, "I was wrong. You _definitely_ haven't gone soft."

"Of course not," Hilary scoffed, picking up her magazine once again. "If anything, I've just gotten even more ruthless."


	23. Chapter 23: Size Doesnt Matter

"Oh, this is horrible!"

Tyson cocked an eyebrow as that tortured cry reached his ears, wondering what in the world could have provoked such anguish.

"It's Hilary," Tyson murmured, narrowing his eyes slightly. "I wonder what she's so upset about."

Tyson sighed, turning towards the bedroom door. He placed his hand on the knob and twisted it, pushing the door in to grant himself entrance into the room. As soon as Hilary came into view, Tyson's eyes widened, his cheeks warming up at the sight before him.

Hilary was standing in front of the floor length mirror in the corner of the room, half naked with only a pair of miniscule denim shorts on her bottoms and a lacey, lime green bra covering her breasts. She had been only slightly startled by Tyson's sudden entrance, though she made no move to cover herself any further.

"Uh…what are you doing, Hil?" Tyson asked. "Why are you…like that? I mean, I'm not complaining, but…I'm curious."

"Nothing much," Hilary grumbled. "Just staring at my chest and lamenting the size of it."

Tyson tilted his head to the side and blinked innocently at the response. "Do you do that often?"

"Yeah, but you're never around for it," Hilary affirmed. "Speaking of which, why are you home so early?"

"It's a long, boring story that's not as interesting as your boobs," Tyson answered frankly, causing Hilary to roll her eyes. "Seriously, let's keep talking about those instead."

"You're such a boy!" Hilary complained, self-consciously folding her arms over her chest.

"I am not a boy, I'm a _man_ ," Tyson corrected with a small huff.

"Whatever," Hilary groaned.

"Besides, I'm not trying to be perverted," Tyson continued. "Even though you _do_ know I love that asset of yours. I mean let's talk about why you're judging yourself so harshly."

"I don't want to talk about it!" Hilary whined. "Not with you, anyway."

"Why not?" Tyson sounded genuinely inquisitive.

"Uh…because you're my _husband?_ " Hilary bit as though it were obvious.

"That's even more reason why you _can_ talk to me about it," Tyson refuted. "You know that I love you no matter what. I won't judge you. And I don't like to know that you're upset! Especially about your own body. So, tell me why you hate your chest."

"Isn't it obvious?" Hilary moaned.

"Nope," Tyson quipped. "I think your boobs are pretty great."

Hilary threw her arms down to her sides, staring at Tyson with wide eyes and a dropped jaw as though he had just said the most blasphemous thing she'd ever heard. "Of course they're not great, Tyson! They're awful!"

"But why?" Tyson murmured.

"They're too small!" Hilary cried, her eyes fully narrowed at this point.

"Too small?" Tyson repeated.

"You heard me," Hilary grumbled.

"But…I think they're perfect," Tyson replied innocently.

Hilary raised an eyebrow and shot Tyson a look that could be defined as _really?_ "So, you're telling me that you wouldn't prefer me to have a wife with a more pronounced chest?"

"No," Tyson chirped.

"That's a lie," Hilary muttered.

"Hilary, why would I lie to you?" Tyson pressed. "I would _never_ lie to you. I love you just the way you are! You're perfect."

"I guess I shouldn't have expected you to understand," Hilary sighed, dejectedly sitting herself on the foot of her and Tyson's bed. " _You_ don't have a size problem."

"What are you…oh," Tyson breathed, blushing slightly and sheepishly crossing his legs. "Let's…not bring me into this conversation. We're talking about you!"

"Yeah, and how sad my chest is," Hilary growled.

"No, only _you_ said that," Tyson corrected. "And you know that I don't agree with you. I think you're great just the way you are. Big boobs aren't everything, you know."

Hilary sighed and rested her head in her hand. "Wish I could believe you. Im the only one who's boob aren't developed as Mariah…"

"Wait…Mariah's boobs are real?!" Tyson gasped. Hilary glared up at her husband, who chuckled and blushed as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Heh…don't tell her I said that."

"I guess I just got unlucky," Hilary concluded, shrugging her shoulders. ''I thought bigger breasts would make me look even prettier, or-''

"Hilary, cut it out!" Tyson whined. Kneeling in front of his wife, Tyson held her hands and smiled at her, continuing, "You're beautiful. You're _so_ beautiful! You can't even compare to anyone. I love you for who you are, and I always have. I don't want you to change anything about yourself, or wish for any of that. You're my Hil, and that's why I love you."

Hilary smiled sweetly at her husband and let out a soft coo, leaning forward so she could wrap her arms around his chest and rest her head on his shoulder. "You're the best husband in the entire world, Tyson. Did you know that?"

"You tell me that a lot," Tyson chuckled softly, kissing the side of Hilary's head. "But it never gets old."

"Thank you," Hilary whispered, squeezing Tyson more tightly. "You always know how to make me feel better."

"I try," Tyson murmured, rubbing Hilary's back with his fingertips. ''Although, can I ask you a favor?''

''Yeah..'' she breathed through his hair.

''Do you think you can stay shirtless forever?''

"Oh, Tyson," Hilary sighed playfully, shaking her head. "What am I going to do with you, you crazy boy?"

"Hey!" Tyson cried, wagging a finger at Hilary.

"Sorry," Hilary breathed. "What am I going to do with you, you crazy _man?_ "

"Better," Tyson hummed with a smirk.


	24. Chapter 24: Talk to Sleep

Hilary hated a lot of things.

Rodents, broccoli, and beyblading of course, were at the top of the list. She also hated people who were stuck-up, or know it alls. High heels and make up were included as well, but she was getting better with the latter.

One of Hilary's most despised things was not being able to fall asleep at night.

It drove her absolutely _insane_. Hilary was almost always tired at night, but sometimes, she just couldn't get her eyes to stay closed or her mind to drift off. She would just roll back and forth in her sleeping bag for what felt like forever, feeling as though she were slowly losing her mind.

What Hilary _loved_ , however, was to talk. And talk and talk and talk. Aside from the fact that she was a natural born chatterbox, she enjoyed having the company that a conversation brought. Long, easy talks often mellowed her out, especially in an instance like this where she just couldn't fall asleep.

"Tyson?"

"Mmmm…"

Even if it meant disturbing someone who wasn't having a similar problem.

"What's your favorite color?" Hilary whispered.

Tyson groaned again and finally managed to crack one eye open. He looked at Hilary, lying on her back in her red, bubble printed sleeping bag, staring up into the late night sky through the tops of the forest trees. She was definitely wide awake, but he wasn't.

"Hilary, go to sleep," Tyson muttered tiredly.

"A lot of people think my favorite color is brown, but it isn't," Hilary continued, blatantly ignoring Tyson's suggestion.

"Fascinating," Tyson exhaled, rolling over in his sleeping bag so his back was facing Hilary. He had hoped she would take this as a hint, but of course she didn't. She just kept going.

"Then some people think it's yellow or red, because I always wear those colors," Hilary mused. "But…those aren't my favorite colors, either. I just think they complement my skin tone."

"Mmm," Tyson groaned tiredly.

"It's definitely not pink. Pink is _way_ too girly."

…

"I bet you can't even guess my favorite color," Hilary hummed.

"Oh my…" Tyson grumbled, burying his face into his sleeping bag. He was almost hoping he would suffocate so he wouldn't have to listen to Hilary's rambling anymore.

"Want to guess?" Hilary trilled.

"NO!" Tyson screamed loudly enough so his voice wouldn't be as terribly muffled by the fabric of his sleeping bag.

"It's green," Hilary blurted, Tyson's shoulders slumping in defeat. "I don't know why, but I've always found the color green to be so soothing! It's kind of watery too, I guess. Not as much as brown, obviously. But isn't mint green such a lovely shade? And forest green is so dark and cool! Of course, emeralds are beautiful. A lot of people tell me that my eyes look like emeralds."

Tyson started to feel his lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, and despite his original intentions, pulled away from the material and sucked in a deep breath, desperate to refill his lungs.

"I told you _my_ favorite color," Hilary murmured. "So…now you have to tell me yours."

Tilting his head back so it sank deeper into the material of his sleeping bag, Tyson squeezed his eyes shut and let out a loud snore, hoping to trick Hilary into thinking he was asleep.

"That was the _worst_ fake snore I've ever heard, Ketchum. I know you're awake."

 _I'm only awake because you won't shut up,_ Tyson thought acidly.

"Tell me what your favorite color is."

…

"Or else I won't shut up for the rest of the night."

"Fine, Hilary! Fine!" Tyson moaned, rolling onto his back and throwing his arms down atop his sleeping bag. "My favorite color is brown, okay? Is that what you want? It's brown. There's your answer. Brown."

"Brown?" Hilary repeated thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Tyson muttered. "Got a problem with it?"

"No," Hilary giggled at the notion. "I just…never really pegged you as a _brown_ person. I thought you were going to say red."

"Why?"

"You wear a lot of red," Hilary explained. "Your sleeping bag is red."

"Grandpa buys all of my stuff," Tyson sighed. "And he just buys a lot of red."

"Oh."

"Can I go to sleep now?" Tyson asked miserably.

"First you have to tell me _why_ your favorite color is brown," Hilary reasoned.

"Seriously, Hilary?" Tyson groaned.

"I'm genuinely curious!"

"Well I'm genuinely _tired._ "

"Just tell me," Hilary pleaded. "Then you can go to sleep."

Tyson furrowed his brow and looked over at Hilary, silently noting how the moonlight shined in her beautiful green eyes. "Promise?"

"I promise," Hilary whispered.

Tyson bit his lip and closed his eyes. "It's…it's so embarrassing."

"I won't laugh at you," Hilary promised. "Please, just tell me. I want to know!"

Inhaling deeply, Tyson squeezed his eyes shut more tightly as he responded in a rushed manner, "my favorite color is brown because of your eyes."

Hilary's eyebrows shot up her forehead, while Tyson slowly and timidly opened his eyes. "W-wait. R-really? It's…it's because of my eyes?"

"Yeah…" Tyson crooned. "Your eyes are so bright. It's so different! The brightest eyes I've ever seen. It's perfect for you."

"Tyson…" Hilary breathed, her entire face blushing.

"When I see brown, I think of your eyes," Tyson continued through a powerful yawn. "And when I think of your eyes, I think of brown. And that makes me happy. So…brown is my favorite color. And that's why."

Hilary smiled to herself and looked down at the ground, nervously wringing her hands beneath the cover of her sleeping bag. "Tyson…that's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say. Thank you…for telling me that. I…I always knew…I knew that you and I…we were…perfect. More than that. And, Tyson, I always wanted to tell you-"

Hilary was interrupted by a snore, one far more delicate than Tyson's fake wheeze from before. Looking up from the ground, Hilary was stunned to see that Tyson had fallen fast asleep, and subsequently, not heard a single word she just said.

"Never mind," Hilary sighed, closing her eyes as well. "I'll tell you on another night when I can't fall asleep."


End file.
